Five Day Challenge – Day 3

imagesrainbow

It was 8 in the morning. The dazzling rays of the sun were piercing the crystal rainbow maker on the windowpane.

Firasat loved simply watching this play of light with the hanging crystal. He found the pretty rainbow spectrum that the crystal projected, the prettiest sight. How a single ray of white light scattered to form a path of all colors that exist. The rainbow made his heart fill with joy and hope for a reason he couldn’t understand.
He would sit there in the morning, right by the window and wait for his friend Samuel to pass by.
They were not on talking terms. Mom had told little Firasat in clear words that he should stay away from his friend. He was not one of us.

Firasat was never able to figure out what that meant. He still remembered how both of them spent their play time, digging for bugs, watching birds peck away at the stumps of trees for food, checking on the neighborhood dog and getting it to do tricks and then laughing at each other for fooling around. They were anything but different.

He wanted to play with his friend. He wanted to tell him about the new game they invented at school. But most of all he wanted to feel his presence. It was like his personal rainbow maker had been snatched away. Nothing else mattered.

He stared at the now glistening stone for sometime, it was scattering the spectrum of light even farther now. Every color vividly visible.
The play of light made a profound impact on Firasat’s little mind and he ran down stairs like he had stumbled on life’s scret and couldn’t wait to tell his mother. Panting, he bought his mom to watch the rainbow with him and pointing at the colors it reflected on the walls said –
“Mother, look, Sam and me are like the colors on the rainbow, we split from the same white light. How could we be different?”

————-

I know I took forever to post this and maaf if you have been waiting but something is better than nothing right? LOL. I hope I don’t take as much to post the last two posts in this challenge inshaAllah :/ JazakumAllahu khair for reading :D. Comments always appreciated. Today’s nominee is Faith is where the heart is. I would love if you would take the challenge forward and if you don’t it would really hurt me (just kidding :P) There is no compulsion at all! All you have to do is choose a picture each day and write a story based on them for five days. It could be fiction or non-fiction. You can also nominate someone else for the challenge. BarakAllahu feeki!

Five Day Challenge – Day 2

rainy-road-border

Honnnkk!!!!

“I am going to take the next detour Misha, I can’t stand this any longer”

“Patience Sabir patience. I know its frustrating but look at the weather. It hasn’t stopped raining”

It was true. The rain was slapping furiously against the windshield of the car and I could make out its fury even at this crawling pace.

I looked at the watch and could feel whatever little patience I had draining away. If only my ummi and abbu could see me right now, they would surely doubt their decision of naming me Sabir – the patient one. I was cursing the rain like I had never cursed anything or anyone else before. Misha kept telling me about the wisdom in the delay, the good that we can’t see. I chuckled at the thought. What could possibly be good in any of this? I was getting impatient by the second.

After much prayer and hardwork my restaurant was finally opening. I was gushing with pride when we left home. The quaint structure on an open stretch of land was like a badge of honor I had earned. The thoughts of my restaurant had obsessed me for nights and days. Today was the day every drop of my sweat was going to get its due. Mine was the first restaurant on this stretch of busy highway. And I was going to inaugurate it with a batch of sumptuous Hyderabadi Mutton biryani cooked using my grandmother’s recipe. A thought was pushing at the back of mind and I was ashamed to finally let it in with so much struggle. “Alhamdulilah” I thought half heartedly. I hadn’t tasted gratitude lately. Misha interrupted my jumbled restless train of thought. Train! I wish there was a railway station nearby…

“Sabir! Sabir look…”

She was pointing at a bypass road that a few cars were now taking. The road hadn’t taken the assault of the rain well. It was under construction and seemed dangerous but all I could think about was reaching the restaurant on time.

“Please let’s not. I think there is wisdom in this delay. Just let’s make a quick dua and wait for the traffic to clear”

“Just look at the jam Mish, there is no way this is clearing up soon, there are cars as far as my eye can see. I…”

I drifted as I saw Misha already muttering under her breath.

inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji`oon; Allahumma ajirni fi musibati wa akhlif li khayran minha

All I could do was listen as I took the detour. I could feel the worsening of the road with every pothole I drove over. No wonder there were just a few cars that took this route. But I was finally happy we were moving ahead. There was a steep slope on the left side of the road and it seemed quite deep. Misha held my arm but was mostly quiet. The rain continued its assault and I spotted a stretch of road that seemed fit to drive over. As I reached it I felt my grip lighten on the wheel, I could finally speed up.

I don’t know when it happened, when the car took over from me. It was like it had its own mind as it stirred violently to the ditch on the side of the road. I reached for Misha’s hand as hers came forward to meet mine and she finally let out a long due heart wrenching scream. All my mind could register was shock and regret and something else too, a plea for help. And the last thing I remember was the burning force of the airbags against my face.

———

Had the rain finally decided to drown me? I remember waking up with a lot of pain. And as I sat up to look at the faces of strangers staring at me, it all came back to me like an excruciatingly painful memory. Somebody handed me a water of bottle.

Misha! I had never felt the force of such gratitude punch me repeatedly as when I saw my wife running towards me and finally meeting me in a hug. Alhamdulilah I finally felt the weight of these words against my tongue, mind, heart and soul. And for once the weight didn’t feel like a burden, it was the thing that lifted the burden.

It hadn’t stopped raining but I could distinguish the warmth of my tears from the rain washing my face. My world had been shaken. I could still see the scene of the ditch coming to meet my car as we fell and my hands were still shuddering

“You were lucky sir! It could have been a fatal accident. This ditch is full of rocks and boulders but it seems the rain had caused the soil to soften and drown the rocks”

I saw the car lay turtled a little farther ahead. We had escaped a fatal crash and alhamdulilah was the first thing my mind could summon every time I saw my wife, my car and my own limbs.I could see the ambulance at the edge of the road above closing in to take us away. The restaurant! I had to call up my assistant to tell him what happened and get the rest of my family to know about it. I frantically searched for a cell phone. The truck driver I spoke to earlier lent me his graciously.

Ringgg “Hello! listen Bashir, its me….”

 

“Saheb we were lucky Saheb! I’ve been trying to call you for the past half hour. Alhamdulilah you are late. When I reached the restaurant, it was burning. It seems faulty wiring had caused the fuse to blow and the dining hall was on fire. It could have taken the cylinders in the kitchen and the restaurant down saheb but the rains saved us! The rain saved the hotel. All it needs is a bit of color”

 

—X—

I am a day late for the second day but better late than never (Phew!)

Thanks to theindianrevertedmuslimah for inviting me to the Five Day challenge :D I am supposed to post a picture each and write a story based on it for five days. It could be fiction or non-fiction. I am also supposed to nominate a fellow blogger and today’s nominee is Anchor with Keidi There’s no compulsion for you to accept but its a lot of fun believe me :)

Five Day Challenge – Day 1

Rainy-grass

It was a wonderful day, bright and glittering with life. She loved such days. She loved the warmth of sunshine on her closed eyes. But gloomy breezy rainy days were her favorite. She loved the rain-kissed touch of wind, the cold but soft, free but safe ambience of a heavy drizzle.

For some reason she loved all weathers now. She wasn’t sure why? Was it because it reminded her of him? Or was it because it was his existence in her thoughts that made all seasons exquisite and the world, her world, beautiful?

She had been in love before, but never like this. No one had taken her heart and made it theirs with so much ease. She had never found so much comfort in another until this day. She felt belonged and certain of one truth – because he existed she existed. None of her lovers had come close to loving her like this. Not even the people who had loved her. How could they? Their love was but a drop in the ocean of his affection. And the way she loved him could never compare to the way he loved her. That was the best part of all – to find someone who adored even those parts of you, you could never love yourself. To find someone who was closer to you than you were to yourself.

Never had she been loved so wholly. Never had she found a cocoon for her heart until now. All the bruises and blows, trials and falls seemed like a specially paved road that led to him. To finally come running home and be comforted by him. She could swear there was no better cushion for her heart than his words.

And the trees were proof, the wind, the light, even the dust and the grime. He made all of them seem alright. And because of him, the world seemed like an okay place. Living was bearable finally, but waiting wasn’t. Waiting for him seemed like the hardest thing to do but she knew it was worth every second and that made it a little more bearable too. That was the thing about his love. It made her feel free, in every situation. Free – A word she never knew beyond its sound. But today she knew exactly what the nightingale must be feeling as it flew from the branch of a tree to disappear in the sky. She felt a certain affinity for it, after all just like her, it too, was a part of the whole.

How could he know her even before she discovered herself? It was a mystery she was happy to have stumbled upon. And the gifts he gave! Oh the gifts! She treasured even the paper cuts she got while opening the gifts. They were an excuse for his complete attention and care and she couldn’t ask for more. He taught her gratitude to its very last essence and yet she knew there was always room for more – a distance she could never seem to cover. He accepted her anyway.

On sunny days like this and for that matter even a cold February night, his thoughts were her best companions. She was always wondering how one could find themselves while getting lost in another. There was nothing more beloved to her than making him happy. And she knew, if she failed he would still pick her up and love her all the same.

She had finally found him and she knew that He wasn’t just Al Wadud, the Most Loving, He was worth loving the most as well

  —-x—-

OMG this is so challenging but I’ve tried my best and I hope you like this story (It’s a combination of fiction & non fiction ;))

Thanks to theindianrevertedmuslimah for inviting me to the Five Day challenge :D I am supposed to post a picture each and write a story based on it for five days. It could be fiction or non-fiction. I am also supposed to nominate a fellow blogger and today’s nominee is I Keep It Silent. There’s no compulsion for you to accept but its a lot of fun believe me :)

There is Always a Silver Lining

Bismillah

I still clearly remember the day of the Charlie Hebdo attacks. Nquote-each-side-takes-the-position-of-the-man-who-was-arrested-for-swinging-his-arms-and-hitting-another-zechariah-chafee-304379ot because of the news about how ‘islamists’ had struck again and given the world another reason to condemn Islam. I remember that day for completely different reasons.

My country currently reflects the same political atmosphere against Islam and muslims that the rest of the world and its media today harbors. As a muslim, no matter how patient I try to be, it still breaks parts of me when I hear deliberate provoking and mud slinging directed at our beautiful faith.

But that day was different. That day I found out how far off the media was from portraying the truth. I was travelling in the local transport of my city which is usually crowded. The public transport mirrors the true nature of the melting pot that the place I come from is, where people from all kinds of faiths, culture, customs and identities travel as one body.

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There is always a silver lining

So this is where it got interesting. A middle-aged man, apparently drunk began picking on two men who were seemingly muslims. They were traveling with a huge travel bag. He began taunting and prodding them to open up their bags or show it to the railway police so they could check if its safe. He was continuously ranting about how it is dangerous to let “them” get away unchecked. Both the muslim men were mostly quite, telling him to keep quite once in a while but he would rant some more.

By this point every one on the train was going about their own business because everyone knows how vain it is to try to make a silly drunk man see sense. I wondered whether people around me were able to identify the obvious jabs being made at two people just because they were muslims and the racial undertones this man was spewing in his drunk blabbering. To be honest, it even scared me a bit. Call me paranoid, but in the past few months I had read almost everyday about tiny altercations politically fueled or otherwise that turned into full fledged riots.

At one point the man said something unacceptable. He started making loose comments about how even “their” burqa-clad women could be partnering in their shady business. At this point a few people decided that he had said enough and they started telling him off and ordering him to either shut up or get off the train. Some even defended the two men saying it was none of the man’s business to know what they are carrying in their bags until they are right here. These were common folks who worked hard every day to earn and feed their families and this may be the only thing they shared with the two muslim men at that point. And sure enough, he backed down.IMG_20150117_160707picmonkey

Even after they got off, people still chatted and questioned each other on why they didn’t speak up sooner and let this man keep talking non-sense. SubhanAllah! These were strangers questioning each other’s responsibility to defend someone and especially a muslim! Allahu Akbar! I cannot say how heart-warming it was for me to be there and witness it.

…Certainly no one despairs of Allah’s Mercy, except the people who disbelieve.” {Quran 12:87}

Next day I found about the murders in France and how most of the world was talking about the attack on their freedom of expression. It was a sad day, I am of the view that people can change and do change and if they do not then that is between them and Allah however it is ironic how in a country people have the freedom to insult, abuse and offend muslims and anyone for that matter but muslims do not have the freedom to cover up. Can’t a person have freedom of expressing their faith?

Nonetheless, what that particular day taught me was with hardship there certainly is ease and that not all things are as they seem. Believer’s should not despair but remember that true judgement is reserved for the Last Day.

And to Allah belongs whatever is in the heavens and whatever is on the earth. And We have instructed those who were given the Scripture before you and yourselves to fear Allah . But if you disbelieve – then to Allah belongs whatever is in the heavens and whatever is on the earth. And ever is Allah Free of need and Praiseworthy. {Quran 4:131}

A letter to a friend…

Umm Saifullah:

May Allah subhan wa ta’ala make us of those that die with the noor of His deen in our hearts. Ameen!

Originally posted on The Indian Reverted Muslimah...:

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Dear Khushi,

I see you every day.. everyday, every moment that you are smiling, bubbling with joy, spreading happiness, being kind.. Alhamdulillah. I see the tears that you hide, the burdens that you silently carry, the hopes that you clench so tight in your fist… I see it my friend, I see it and yet I remain but a silent spectator.

As you speak to your parents over phone, speaking as a grown up child, willing to take up the burden that even the most able sons of this day shy to take up. I observe sitting behind you, as eyes twinkle when you share your dreams and as that gorgeous dimple makes its way when you imagine the happiness you wish to give your parents. SubhanAllah.

A person came to the Messenger of Allah (sal Allahu alaihi wa sallam) and asked, “Who among people is the most deserving of…

View original 1,585 more words

My Very Own Hijab Story

بسم الله

Asalam alaikum people!!

Yes, yes I am back after quite some time and alhamdulilah that I can still write this post. Life has been a splendid roller coaster ride and ever since I joined my first job after becoming Muslim, even more so. There have been so many interesting realizations and revelations happening. First of all I would really like to thank my dearest sisters in Islam who I have met on this journey and whose help means more to me than they will ever know. I am really grateful for each one of them. Sisterhood like this is a proof that Allah subhan wa ta’ala is with us always. May He bless this ummah.

Source: imgarcade.com

Source: imgarcade.com

Firstly I would like to thank The Indian Reverted Muslimah for a very motivating message about the salaam. (Another post coming up on that inshaAllah) And secondly, through her hijab journey I was able to take lessons which I didn’t expect to relate to so soon. Alhamdulilah.

So I had been draping my scarf over my head for some time. As a ‘want to be’ hijabi it was the least I convinced myself to do. There were a few real reasons. Okay I confess I was anxious about transforming from a non muslim to a muslim in public (self conscious much?) So the moment I started working, this is how my journey has been.

Day 1: The usual drape

Day 2: The second end of the scarf just went around the other shoulder

Day 3: Coming early and sitting alone in office I finally decided to drape it like they show on those terrific you tube videos and eureka!!! I finally got the hang of it, now all I gotta do is do it in public without any funny looking folds.

When I decided to just do it on the metro I felt like I was standing in a stadium under thousands of spiteful stares (poor souls were just curious thinking what is this girl upto? Or “is this how muslim women do their scarf thingy). And every time I felt this tinge of self doubt, a little voice, barely noticeable would prompt to me – “Allahu Akbar” <3

By now I had learned that this is how shaitaan does his dirty tricks, by putting negative thoughts in your head. And I had a storm raging inside my skull. I felt nervous even after wearing the hijab properly. I felt conscious of the stares of not non muslims now but other muslims. What would they think of me?! about the clothes I wear with hijab? Will it be enough?!!

Fighting my own heart I just went ahead and decided to tie a proper hijab like I had practiced a million times at home before and fussed half a million times at office over. (LOL). So I did it and suddenly everything became quiet. (It wasn’t because my hijab was so tight I could barely hear anything, no). The quiet was inside me, like a storm had just settled, like the clouds had just parted to make way for glorious shimmering sunshine. Sometimes we just create our own storms, don’t we?

Meow

Meow? I am just a cat

Then the day finally came when I started wrapping it up like a professional in just one wave of my hand (I am kidding ofcourse) But I sure didn’t need a pin!! Yayy :D. And it started to grow on me. Alhamdulilah! I was finally doing my bit to please my Creator and it helped to keep reminding myself why I was doing it every time I felt conscious about the stares (which might be imaginary sometimes). I haven’t taken one loo break without fussing over my hijab or just looking at the reflection of the stranger in the mirror I am getting to know. And I know I have a long long way to go but for now I can’t get over how graceful my hijab feels. How lovingly it falls all over my back, like a superhero’s cape.

May be this is why I was so anxious. Clark Kent never transforms in full public view ;)

Fi amanillah!!