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My ventilator. Read, comment and judge me not.
   

Saturday, June 17, 2006

Tablighi Jamat


I came across this poem on Tablighis on one of the many websites. Enjoy...

The tableeghis,
easy target for criticism,
Attacks against them launched with cynicism
Politically unaware, Intellectually Docile,
Painted by some as simplistically puerile

But I must hasten to disagree,
And quote to you some history
To prove the nature of my claims
And perhaps to defend their noble aims

When Hinduism was spreading in Mewat,
And muslims were losing iman from the heart,
A spiritual man arose who stood apart,
And founded what we now know as tableeghi jamaat

Who knew this spark of love would spread like fire,
For the situation seemed quite dire,
It transformed darkness to illumination,
And rescued the sunnah from devestation

Empty masjids cried floods of tears,
As no worshippers made sujood for many years,
And then crowds came back and thronged their floors,
You can see angels smile, and the heavens echo with applause.

The dhikr of Allah is being revived by their crowds
Throughout the lands jam'aahs travel like rain-bearing clouds
Bringing much sought for water to thirsty lands,
And turning to luscious green arid desert lands.

Some people may be unaware of this information ,
That mawlana Ilyaas was an initiated sufi master
But he saw the mutasawifs and ulema remaining aloof from their congregation,
Whilst Indias muslims plunged into great disaster

So he took the da'wah out to the masses,
Like Bees flying on journeys making honey in stashes,
Unknown inhabitations became Honeycombes sweet,
Where millions of muslims gather and meet

They left their families and their abodes,
And embarked on difficult dusty roads,
Travelling for the pleasure of the divine,
To replace the darkness of postmodernity with the sunnah's shine.

Embryonic change happens in Forty Days,
Strange Indeed are Allah's ways,
Dont call this number a reprehensible innovation,
Perchance it be a sign of your lack of academic discrimination.

In the way of Allah each step they tread,
But only for jihaad this should be said?
Open the hadeeth work of bukhari- the chapter on JUMUAH,
ya akhee f'illah,
In that very chapter not about jihad, it quotes the hadeeth of the feet being covered with dust Fee sabeel illah

How many a former drug addict I have encountered in these lands,
Whose previously injecting hands are enshrouded with ancient sins
And now he sits in the house of God with a tasbeeh in his hands
Those same hands make dhikr on those beads of strings

How many a robber who used to steal,
How many a zaani who shamed the earth's surrounds
How many a musician singing profane sounds
Now recounts God's Jalal-it makes him yell out squeals
And now the earth begins to smile, as he prostrates and as he kneels...

How many a face- black white and yellow from every schism
Sit on a mat and eat together their repast
Whilst politicians talk of the problems of racism
Oh This is not out problem- a thing of the past.

He makes nadaama and in tawbah turns
His heart with Love of Allah yearns
God Bless you Oh dearest mawlaana ilyaas
How beautifully you turned Yaas Into Aas

From the orient to the occident
And from the south right to the north
Crowds emerge with intentions heavenly bent
And taking Allah's name alone, they come forth

Pakistanis, Caucasians, Mayalsians, Africans, And Turks
Chinese, Eskimo, and russian faces
Ethnicities unheard of fill masjids where traces,
Of their forefathers are written in historical works.

Whilst nations sit before cathode rays,
That titillate their eyes with their enticing ways,
These men rebel against satan's invitation
And turn to the work of the prophets-driving iblees to frustration

They sit of the floor as it indents their knees,
They know not of Nietzsche, Hume, Kant or Socrates,
They couldnt perhaps recount ghazzali or avicenna's complex kalaam,
But the dhikr of Allah makes their souls calm

This is not to deny the place of the mutaklimeen,
Without whom we would be in disarray,
But for the awaam such complex arguments can lead astray
So let dhawq and wijdaan provide them with yaqeen.

They are not by tales of Machiavelli's prince infected
The sahabas stories motivate their lives
Such dark political ideologies before such heros stand rejected
Upholders of truth and self sacrifice

They hold no huge political rallies protesting to creation
In the nights they stand in prayer before the answer of every supplication
And with tears flood the floors begging for mercy and rejuvenation
Once more gifting glory to the Ummah of the best of creation

Don't approach the worldy kings -they cannot protect,
A Pretzel falls into their tracheas, almost suffocating
Such a small little thing He cannot eject?
How will he give Honour to those who stand outside the white house waiting?

They couldnt tell you about quantum mechanics or Hawkings
They couldnt refute Darwinian thought or the reductionism of dawkins
They dont know that much of Heisenbergs principle of uncertainty
For to them the kalimah is a deeply rooted certainty

They might not know Chomskys views on Linguistic Bayaan,
Or how Steven Pinker's instincts about neurolinguistics fit,
But they have of a surety read soorah rahman
And know that language is from Allah a merciful Gift.

And not the product of random forces without end,
Or indeed a blind watchmaker -No my friend
The blindness is in your hearts-not the maker of harmony
So with Ahsan-ul-qawl..They call To the Absolute with humility

On the Day of Reckoning when the Prophets say nafsee nafsee...
Perhaps Dawkins will smile, albeit, temporarily
Thinking "Ah My Selfish Gene Thesis was true"
Even these prophets are exhibiting ultimately a selfish hue

But Then Mustafa shall come and say Ummati Ummati...
Such selflessness which will cause his theory to terminate suddenly,
This is the beloved of Allah, and this maqam you cannot explain scientifically,
So Discard Dawkins Memes for Muhammad(saw)'s MEEM

They fall not prey to materialism or such bakwaas,
They see the divine hand behind each moving leaf,
In fact they are aboard a noah's ark constructed by mawlana ilyaas,
They hold on to the sunnah with their teeth

Of Freud's oedipus complex they remain unaware
Or indeed of changing uncertain paradigms
Imaan, Salaah, the 6 points are in the air
The kaafirs who promote intellectual kufr will pay for their crimes

Qiyamah is before their eyes
Not mere logical premises philosophers surmise
But deep rooted convictions that change their lives
You don't have to read volumes to be called wise

Those of us who study in intellectual arrogance
Forget rumi's tales of the lover's simple acceptance
The intellect is still looking for its transportation
Love has circled the ka'ba 7 times in dedication


posted by Niqabi at 2:19 AM | 14 caw-ments

Sunday, June 11, 2006

Petra



Having so much free time these days, I decided to indulge in my favourite pass time of crawling the cyber world and devouring historical information. Google is a true blessing and one that is not disguised. It has educated me in the true send of the word. I owe most, if not all of my awarness to Google.

Having read in the Quran, about the destroyed nations of the past that disobeyed Allah, I have always been interested in seeing the ruins of those cities. It has been said that Allah preserved remnants of the wreckage so that believers may learn from the mistakes of those before them. With this in mind, I set upon finding information about the nations of Aad and Thamud. Surely, there must be something of worth on the internet. I came upon a set of pictures of an ancient temple in Jordan called Petra. The name didn't mean anything to me, I had never even heard of it.

"Petra is the treasure of ancient world, hidden behind an almost impenetrable barrier of rugged mountains, boasting incomparable scenes that make it the most majestic and imposing ancient site still-standing nowadays. It has been said 'perhaps there is nothing in the world that resembles it', actually, for sure, there is nothing in the world that resembles it. The rock-carved rose-red city of Petra is full of mysterious charm, it was 'designed to strike wonder into all who entered it'."

But as far as the picture was concerned, it was breathtakingly beautiful. The temple, according to my search was carved out of rocks. This meant something because the people of one of the destroyed nations also used to carve houses out of rocks. This could be the ruins of the destroyed city mentioned in the Quran but I wasn't quite sure until I came upon this very interesting website. Please take a look at it.

Signs for the men of understanding

But before you go there, read this information that I got off another website :

The summary below has been drawn from the verses of Quran. I'm just quoting a few of them here but for further referance, please read the Quran.

Do you build on every high place a symbol, for the sake of vanity! And you take for yourselves strongholds, perhaps you will live forever? And if you attack, you strike ruthlessly?” (The Message 26:128-130)


“Did you not see what your Lord did to ‘Aad? Irum, with the great columns? The one which was like no other in the land? And Thamud who carved the rocks in the valley?” (The Message 89:6-9)

And recall that He made you (Thamud) successors after ‘Aad, and He established you in the land so that you make palaces on its plains, and you carve homes in the mountains. So recall God’s grace, and do not roam the Earth as corrupters.” (The Message 7:74)

And Thamud who carved the rocks in the valley?” (The Message 89:9)

And ‘Aad and Thamud (were annihilated). Much was made apparent to you from their dwellings. The devil had adorned their works in their eyes, thus he diverted them from the path, even though they could see.” (The Message 29:38)


'Aad' - People of Hud (AS)

1. Inherited the land after Noah (7:69);
2. Powerful Nation (41:15);
3. Homes are still visible (29:38);
4. Alters were built on 'High-Points' (26:128);
6. Main City 'Irum' boasts great columns (89:6-9).



'Thamud' - People of Saleh.

1. Inherited the land after 'Aad (7:74);
2. Homes carved out of mountain (7:74);
3. Is a Continuation of the Empire of 'Aad (53:50-51);
4. Situated in a Valley (89:9);
5. Military Community (85:17-18);
6. Provisions of water and gardens available (26:147-149);
7. Homes still standing (29:38).


Conclusion for ‘Aad & Thamud:

All the information found in the Quran draws us to one single finding:

‘Aad & Thamud have continued after one another IN-THE-SAME place.
There are only two places in the Middle East that have distinct stone carvings (we chose Middle East because that is where civilization first began after the Earth's re-birth in Mesopotamia, and where the Arabs and Arabic language originated from - 26:195):

1.Medien Saleh - Northern Arabia;
2.Petra - South of Dead Sea.

Although both places are remnants of the 'Nabataean' Kingdom (the fathers of the Arabs), our research eliminates 'Medien Saleh' as being the central city for the following reasons:

* Medien Saleh has 'tombs' carved out of the rock, whereas Scripture tells us they carved 'homes' (7:74);
*Medien Saleh is situated in a 'flat-land' with 'rock-peaks' around it. The Scripture tells us to look for a 'Valley' (89:9);
*Medien Saleh has no water water source to host crops and gardens, while Petra has an advanced water system used for irrigation (26:147-148).


Thus we are left with 'Petra' which fits all our clues for being 'Irum' with the Great Columns (89:6-9):

Petra also happens to be situated in a 'Valley' (89:9) and is well described by all archeologists as being a 'Military Complex' (85:17-18). Also, an 'advanced' hydraulic water system was in place with the walls of the narrow entrance 'Siq' lined with channels (originally fitted with chamfered clay pipes of efficient design) to carry drinking water to the city, while a dam to the right of the entrance diverted an adjoining stream through a tunnel to prevent it flooding the Siq (26:147-149). Petra has only recently been attracting archeological excavations; however, excavations have only been done on less than 2% of the ancient city. According to some archeological research, Petra dates back to 3,500 BC:

"In Abraham’s time, Petra was known as Salah. It is located in the mountains of Seir, the land of the Edomites. Petra is the Greek name for Sela, or Selah, a city of ancient Edom. The Hebrew word sela means "lofty, craggy rock, fortress, stronghold, cliff."

The site of Petra seems to indicate the presence of multiple civilizations, the last of which were the Nabateans (Arabs) and the Romans (Byzantines) upto the 6th century A.D. when it was struck by a devastating earthquake in 551 A.D. and the city fell out of use.

Thus, in conclusion to this part of the research, it can be said with some certainty that the ancient city of Petra is indeed the location where the civilizations of ‘Aad and Thamud once lived and flourished.


posted by Niqabi at 9:44 AM | 55 caw-ments

Quote


'We plan and Allah plans and Allah is the best of planners.'


posted by Niqabi at 9:29 AM | 1 caw-ments

Monday, June 05, 2006

MSN nick


'The wind is blowing hard through the window but I, burning in hell cannot feel it'

This is my 12 year-old sister's MSN nick. A little more search in the dark corners of our pc revealed further quotes by her, one of them is:

'I want people to like me for who I am but what I am is COMPLICATED to tell...'

This is shocking, to say the least. I'm worried.



posted by Niqabi at 6:41 AM | 10 caw-ments

Saturday, June 03, 2006

Coincidence


I haven't posted in such a long time. It's probably my longest break from blogging here. I've been having exams, as you may or may not know. Not that they ever hinder me from doing anything but please let me use that as an excuse to mask my procrastination. Khyr, I have started two other blogs and they have this venting spirit, every time I log in there, I end up whining to my melodramaric heart's content. And I'm just not ready to share my idle, useless, selfish complaints with people as yet. So anonymity is a loyal friend these days.

My parents are expected to be back in pakistan on 08 th June and home by 22 nd June. It's been awefully long, more than four months and now I really want them back. So anticipation is growing and that somehow keeps me from feeling too low. In other news, I'm completely free and enjoying. I'm sleeping and catching up with old friends. Its a small world, really. I had this friend from Johannesburg, South Africa that I used to talk to back in 2003. I had a 200 plus contact list on Yahoo but it started to affect my real life so I decided to remove the messenger from the pc altogether. It helped alot and then I forgot about all the people that I talked to. Cyber world doesn't last and sooner or later, people lose contact. Khyr, I'm no exception, I did the same and went on with my life. Anyway, last December, there came a jamat to our house from South Africa. I got pally with almost all the 7 girls/women and the fact that 5 of them were in early twenties made the experience all the more enjoyable. I took down their addresses, phone numbers, every snippet of information that I could get my hands on so that we never lose touch. But we did, I never got 'round to writing letters. I also knew that postal mail between pakistan-south africa is frustratingly slow and most of the time, it doesn't even deliver. But I've kept the addresses and names, just in case I decide to go for vacations to south africa.

Last night, being bored out of my mind, I thought I'd reinstall my ole' Yahoo messenger and see if anyone remembers me. I signed in and saw that 97% of my contact population was offline. A few odd people were online but I wasn't up for chatting much so I didn't instant message anyone. Then this girl came online, I recognised her from her screen name but I had forgotten her name. I knew at one point in time I had talked to her in great length. I messaged her and we talked for long, sharing news, progress and life in general. I told her about the south african people that I met last year and how genuine and full of love they were. Fortunetly, I was able to dig up all the addresses and names I had saved, so I typed them up to her, hoping that she might know someone. Unfortunetly, she didn't. Then she stopped at one name and said she might know her...she gave me a few clues about her appearance and it turned out that my friend had met this entire jamat at Dubai airport, when they were about to leave for Pakistan and my friend was on her to India. She met them all because they stopped at the airport to do salah and one of the women of the jamat casually mentioned her that its her first time out and they're headed off to Pakistan. Then they parted ways. Its merely a pleasant coincidence that the same jamat came to our house! I rattled off more names but my friend didn't know anyone. I kept bringing in more information, little stuff that I remembered; husband's occupation, number of children, brother-in-law's name...just about everything that I could remember. In the same jamat, there was this lady who's brother-in-law worked for CII (Channel Islam International, South Africa) and apprently, he was famous there. I remember she kept typing his name on Google, hoping it would dig out his picture or something. But no picture came, although his name was slightly common on the internet. I tried remembering his name but I just couldn't get it. I knew one thing for sure, that he was a moulana. My dear friend emptied her mind and this is how the conversation went:



Niqabified : This guy
Niqabified : is a moulana I think
Niqabified : Do you know any moulanas related to that channel?
staarz_staarz : lol there are so so so many
staarz_staarz : unmarried?
Niqabified: No he's kinda big there
Niqabified : No, he's married
staarz_staarz : wait hold it
Niqabified : ....
sstaarz_staarz :Was he a****'s brother-in-law?
Niqabified : Yes...
staarz_staarz : Molana Moosa Laher
Niqabified : YEH!!!!
Niqabified :YESSSSS
Niqabified: hahahhaha
Niqabified : oh god, thank you.
staarz_staarz : jackpot!

Now, whats interesting is that my friend know this jamaty lady's brother-in-law, when she doesn't know the lady herself. But she has heard of her often. Turns out that the jamat lady's best friend is a student at the madressah where my friend teaches. That student was close in age with my friend and although they were in a teacher-student relationship, they did share stuff. So the student used to tell stuff about her best friend (jamaty lady) to her teacher (my friend) and thats how my friend knew about that jamaty lady's brother in law. But this connection is just so...out of the world! I mean, what are the odds?? My friend teaching a student who's a best friend of the woman I met. Its totally surprising and indeed wonderful too.

Then I gave my friend alot of messages to deliver but this little event was so emotionally refreshing; making connections worldwide. I loved it! :)


posted by Niqabi at 5:57 AM | 2 caw-ments

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

Because I do not hope to turn again...


I'm not the one for poetry, infact most of the time I don't even understand it. But this one just shook me. Its so incredibly simple and yet so meaningful.


Ash-Wednesday
by T S Eliot


Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man's gift and that man's scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the aged eagle stretch its wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?

Because I do not hope to know again
The infirm glory of the positive hour
Because I do not think
Because I know I shall not know
The one veritable transitory power
Because I cannot drink
There, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is nothing again
Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and
I renounce the blessed face
And renounce the voice

Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice
And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain

Because I do not hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgement not be too heavy upon us
Because these wings are no longer wings to fly
But merely vans to beat the air
The air which is now thoroughly small and dry
Smaller and dryer than the will
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still.

Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death
Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.


posted by Niqabi at 1:39 PM | 7 caw-ments

Friday, May 05, 2006

A day to remember...


I'm so thoroughly careless, so mind boggingly disorganised, so terribly incautious. Its incredible the amount of times I have suffered on account of my healthy habits. It would have been slightly acceptable, had it only effected me but now it's begining to slice the peace of those around me.

People tell me, left, right and center, every day of the week, every month of the year how frustrating it can be and how difficult it is to live with someone like me because I can't get anything straight. I have a memory disorder, or maybe its 'part of the deal' of being a careless bug. I always tend to forget the most important of things. And I not only forget them, I forget them at a time when there's no solution available for as far as the eyes can see. I deliberatly crash myself into situations where I'm utterly and completly stuck with no way out. Before, I thought I did it-either unconsciously or consciously- because of my thirst for daily life challenges. But lately I've started to realise that it has more to do with being innately mad than with anything constructive. I don't even enjoy these much-critisized careless escapades because most of the time, they just bring another dose of embarrasment and humiliation. I take it all with a smile. Vowing like a lion not to let that happen to me ever again in life. Thinking up strategies to allure myself into following a decently punctual schedual. I give myself small rewards, set up goals and try to motivate myself in all ways possible and yet I slip, time and again, into the person that I don't want to be. Its not that serious but its troublesome. It can make one detest oneself and yeah that is not a good feeling.

I'll relate this account as a shining example of the gift of carelessness that I posses.

I'm about to appear for my A level exams in like...two days. Yes, that is serious. Yes, I'm blogging here because this incident has left me in ruins, speaking in terms of nerves. Now before we enter an exam, we're supposed to be holding a certain 'statement of entry'. It is literally a ticket for the exam and if you don't have it, no matter what excuse you give, according to The Policy, you're barred from giving the exam. Our school issued them some time early last week, to be precise, that was last Monday. I, being a lazy duck, didn't bother to get it then. I wasn't actually delaying it (or atleast thats what I kept telling myself) rather just didn't go earliar because I knew that a whole chunk of hours would be chopped off the day I decide to pick it. We were expecting to have a sociology class some time before the exam so I had planned that I'll pick the statement whichever day I attent my class. On early notice, it was Wednesday but due to a 'family emergency' our teacher couldn't make it, so the class was postponed till Friday. I was slightly worried about the delay because if something had gone wrong with the official junk on Wednesday, which was very likely, I would have had the time to rectify it. Friday was like the end of the cliff. But as usual, taking my risks and living life as merrily as I can, I didn't bother much about it. Finally, Friday landed (today) and I went to school to attend a sociology lesson. After the class, I went over to the Administrator and politely requested for the statement. I knew, I was the last one to pick it, with exams just two days and had very little chance of receiving sympathy. But nevertheless, I tried. I sounded so meek and pleading, I would have given alms to myself! The Administrator wasn't as heated as I had expected but very calmly she planted a bomb on my head by declaring that my fee hadn't been paid. Now, anyone with the vaguest idea about the pace of monetary transactions in Pakistan would know that its no piece of cake. I knew there was no way on earth I could pay the fee today so I suggested if I could get the entry then and promised her to pay the fees by Monday. She remained adamant on her point; you can't get the statement unless you clear the bill. I felt like screaming down at her for being so selfish and materialistic. I mean its just a few thousand rupees, after all. Thats my own lame justification, in all fairness I am the one who needs to blamed. In the midst of this tense discussion she rattled something about The School Rules. But what good are rules if they can't be broken or moulded! To make things worse, I had no idea where the fee bill was. I wasn't even aware of ever receiving one, let alone finding it. I racked my mind, destroyed my peace and broke into a sweat. Now I know by experience (I've had the misfortune of losing my fee bill before as well) that to get another one issued is a task in itself that takes 2-3 business days. I couldn't possibly get another one issued, pay the fees and still have time to get the statement, without crossing the Monday deadline. Not to forget that I had this major obstacle of a day in this; the Merry day, i.e Sunday. And Sundays mean a halt on all official activities. Bad news for me. The administrator, in an attempt to be helpful offered me the school telephone to make a call home. I knew there was no use calling home because my parents are out of country, both my brothers were at school then and they're very irresponsible in any case, so no chance of being pulled ashore by the family. All through that time my mind was spinning like a motor, churning out one useless idea after the other. I ventured out of the office, dejected and sad. For the first time in my life I truly felt the tremors of being careless. But the lesson was learnt at the expense of something so horribly important. I just couldn't grasp the fact that my carelessness would come to harm me in such a poisonous manner!

Before one can get the statement of entry, one has to have signatures of a couple of teachers, including the Librarian on something called 'clearance slip'. I went over to the library, thinking matters couldn't go worse and asked her to sign the slip. She made a few random clicks on the computer, searching for my name from the database and ta-da, my name appears with a very innocent line ....'Ladies Coupe`-not returned'. She checked the date it was issued and it was...yes, October 2005. Ahem and the fine was somehere around Rs.500. She politely informed me that she can't sign the slip unless I pay the fine along with the book. The last time I saw the book was in winters and I didn't even know if it was in one piece because I shifted my room in early March and I never bothered to put the 'literature junk' in any place safe. I was sure there were many missing pages, that is if it wasn't already lost. So I begged her and related my tragedy. She seemed to be used to this type of drama and exaggeration so obviously she wasn't very helpful. I told her I'll pay double the fine if she'll just sign that darn slip because without it I won't be able to sit my exam! She looked at me intently for a while, trying to decide whether to trust me or not, gladly I was wearing the niqab. It helps sometimes :P Then finally she said OK and I thanked her profusely. Fortunetly I spotted my cousin reading some book in the corner. I went over to her and narrated the plight as nonchalantly as I could and asked her if I could get a cell (my own cell was out of credit). She didn't have one so she looked here and there, gave out a few hmmphs and ermms and finally got out of her chair to ask a friend. I was so happy finding a cell, her apparent hesitation didn't even bother me. I ran off to the toilets (we're not allowed to have cells in the school) and made a quick call to my sister, hoping she'd be awake by 10 am. Luckily she was and when I told her about the fee fiasco she sounded very helpful. I asked her to get someone from my dad's office to pay the fees. Giving those few directions abated my tension and I was glad that atleast someone was trying to do something about the problem. I went over to the bench and waited agonizingly to get the updates from my sister. In the meanwhile I thought, I'd search my school bag thoroughly before accusing someone and lo and behold! What do I find...a crumpled up envelope with my name written on it in the most ineligible of writings. Anxiously, I pulled out an even shrivelled 4-folded fee bill. Although I felt like giving myself a few spanks for totally crossing the line in being a forgetful jerk, I refrained in the interests of peace. Nevertheless, it was relieving to hold that extraordinary piece of paper that had the capability of turning my life upside down in a matter of few hours. When my sister called next, the office guy was on his way to the school to collect the fee bill and deposit the money in the bank. Its another story how he lost his way to school and how I was constantly giving him instructions on the phone. Suffice to say that my fees was succesfully deposited before 12:30 pm. When I received the confirmation stamp, I glided over to the office and gave the Administrator the treat of her eyes; a cleared bill. She signed it fashionably and gave me an earful for causing everyone so much trouble. But her reprimand seemed so gentle after what i had gone through. I bade her farewell and went home a changed person :)


posted by Niqabi at 11:11 AM | 6 caw-ments

Sunday, April 30, 2006

Lessons learnt.


Today I turned nineteen. I can never be 18, for the rest of my life. But on a more positive note, I have a whole life ahead of me, waiting for me, ready to be taken on in full swing. But if you come to think of it, years have little significance. 16, 17, 18, 19...they're all fleeting guests. Just a number, changes every year! Its the events and moments that you always cherish. I've had my fair share of wonderful memories and I'm glad. There's something celestial about being with genuine people; people who actually care. Maybe celestial seems too out of context here but thats exactly what I mean. The time spent then is eternal in some odd way. Its like a video on shuffle. It goes over and over again in your mind and you never get tired. Its a moment of bliss which becomes sweeter as the memory recedes into history. Probably I'll never be able to explain this in words well but that doesn't matter. If its something you can hold onto in times of distress and learn from, then thats what counts. Through the course of my seemingly orderly and uninterrupted life, I have learnt quite a bit. Happiness is something that has to be found. It will not, I repeat not, I repeat again not, crawl to you, or for that matter drive to you. It'll always stay put, hidden behind the smallest of actions, words, gestures, glances and even frowns. There are people out there who walk around with shadows of tragedies and yet you never see them without a smile. They have every reason on earth to be depressed, hurt or sad and yet they decide to keep up their hopes high. Its not that they don't care enough, they just make a positive choice. I know from experience and otherwise, that one can never have enough of anything. This goes out for practically everything. Human beings can't achieve excellence, perfection, pinnacle of success; there will always be room for improvement. So aiming for something you are not designed to have, is common but problematic, to say the least. I'm not implying any sense of failure or discouragement here. My point is...play along. One must learn to let go. Sometimes you're so blinded by your own love, that you just can't disgest the fact of someone not loving you back. Your own intensely powerful love for someone cannot, in any way, be an assurity of reciprocation. If someone's been only vageuly in love, they'll know what I mean.

Although this has got nothing to do with me turning nineteen today, lol. I felt like telling something that I've concluded. Its very important for one to be happy. Because happiness can do wonders for the soul. It can bring out the best in you, the good in you, the original in you. And its not a winning-an-award or getting-an-iPod kind of happiness. Because that one doesn't last. Its more like a drug, works on for a few hours, maybe couple of days but eventually it wears off. I'm talking about the everyday happiness, one that you feel on a daily basis. It has to be achieved, every time. And its only when you're hopeful and positive that you get to enjoy. I'm yet to hear about someone who's distressed, gloomy but happy. Its in our mental framework, how we decide to bolt the attitude. If we can learn to take life less seriously and move on, it'll save us alot of mental trouble. Its just too short and fast to be wasted. You know...opportunities are going to pop up all your life. They'll show up, every now and then and if you've truly put your heart into staying hopeful, you can avail them too. You just will, because Allah never disappoints.


posted by Niqabi at 3:29 PM | 8 caw-ments
   Profile
Name: Niqabi
Location: Lahore, Pakistan
Occupation: Housewife
Religion: Islam
Interests: World War II, Jews, Hebrew, ancient sites, Muslim rule in Spain, revolutions, Vatican city and Islamic literature.
Books: The black album, Portofino, Ladies coupe, In beautiful disguises, The buddhist of Suburbia, The hidden life of Otto Frank.
Contact: niqabified [at] gmail [dot] com
Quote: "We plan and Allah plans and Allah is the best of planners"


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