Listening to Quran

I just had a little shopping in Metro, a shoe store here and Masha Allah, they had played Quran in the shop, and SubhanaAllah, it was so beautiful to listen to the Quran, I had such an Iman rush I wanted to cry! You know what shops are like usually, blaring haram music in the speakers! And this shop had the Quran playing, and if I had a little more guts or if I were a guy I would have told the shop people straight out how much I apreciate and respect it.

A funny story

As I was listening to Mohammed Al shareef yesterday, he shared a funny story, a model husband and wife. The wife is very beautiful and she says to her husband "Insha Allah, Alhamdulillah we will enter Jannah because Allah has blessed you with a beautiful wife like me and you have been thankful to him. Allah subhanata'ala said the Shakurah will enter Jannah, insha Allah and he tested me with an ugly man like you and I have been patient, and Insha Allah , Allah said the Sabirah will enter Jannah" and I laughed out loud listening to that! SubhanahAllah! Trust Mohammed Al shareef to be the one to make me laugh!

Masha Allah, he's a great lecturer. But I would still prefer listening to those of Slave of the All-knowing.

Their voice

I heard their voice. They sounded sad. They didn't laugh at all! I couldn't even hear a smile in their voice. They are not making this easy for me. I could hear the sadness in their voice. How I wish I could comfort them! How I wish they weren't sad. It hurts to know that they are sad. But I can only guess, I could never be sure. But I'm positive that they are sad; or could they be? And for what reason? I wish I knew.

I was counting on feeling better after hearing them laugh.

Their voice. There is nothing like hearing their voice. But it is not comforting when they're not happy.

I'm feeling like crying again.

Oh Allah please give us Saboor and fill our hearts with the love for You-Ameen.

Reflection

Dear me! I just read an article on IslamQA about Love! And it said Love is a sickness of the heart and that it was only those whose love for Allah Subhanata'ala is week who fall into the trap of Love!

Humiliation. Could it be? I love Allah. There is no doubt upon it! And my love for Allah is not weak! My heart is not week. And I'm not sick. I just love Slave of the All-knowing and I miss them! That is all there is to it.

"Love is the action of the empty heart"- thats what I read. Well, at least now I have a point to tell my girls when they give me the "Loving someone is not wrong" line.

No, it isn't hypocritical of me. Slave of the All-knowing is my fiancé.

Me

Me. How do I begin to talk about me? And without giving my selves away? Fat chance. But I'll give it a shot. I mean, what's my blog without a post on me?!

Lemme begin in the name of Allah. I am a Muslim, was born on the 26th of Dul hijja-27th of June in the year 1992 on a beautiful saturday evening, into a beautiful Muslim family consisting of my Father, my Mother and two older brothers. Alhamdulillah. Now Masha Allah, our family has grown bigger, my eldest brother has a wife and a baby girl. And I have a fiance-who if you haven't yet figured is my Slave of the All-knowing. (I will still continue to speak about him in gender neutral terms cause I think I like it that way)

My name. I have three beautiful names. my first name is the name of our beloved Prophet Sallahi Walaihi Wassallam's daughter's name. My middle name means "Happiness". My third name is a name my Gran gave me, its sounds very Royal, makes me wanna put the cool icon "B)" here, but I will not. And then there's my initials representing my family name. Yep, I know, thats quite a name! But I go by my first and middle names usually.

How much do I fear Allah? Since I was born into a good muslim family-Alhamdulillah, I was raised in an Islamic background, Islamic lifestyle with basic Islamic knowledge. My Mother is my first and best teacher. I believe I first fasted when I was in 1st grade, that's like 5 years. I started wearing Hijab when I was 10 I think and must be around the same time when I started praying. Those days-it was what some people would call as 'Hollow hijab" it was just a shawl worn over my head losely, not a proper hijab. Then slowly my sleeves became longer, my clothes more modest looking and my hair rarely ever peeked out of my hijab. I didn't know to recite Quran for a long time, I would recite those surahs which I had memorised and I would drag and struggle to read the other surahs. But Alhamdulillah, now I can recite just fine. I always watched TV and listened to music, it was around 6th or 7th grade- when I quit both. But soon I gave in. Then I stopped listening to boy-music altogether, thinking it would be a good thing to avoid listening to voice of opposite gender. Then around 10th and +1, I got addicted to music and I loved hollywood movies. I would play music in full volume and sing at the top of my lungs goofing around in my room. It was when I was doing my +2, my grandmother (mom's mother) passed away. Hers was a life of devotion, a life limited to the four walls of her bedroom, all for the sake of Allah. After she passesd away, I started to change, reflection on my gran's life. I was afraid to play music in the house thinking it would upset my mother, but after some time I still did. And continued to do it. Untill one day I built up my Iman and deleted all my music, and I was surprised I didn't feel a thing when I did that! Not an ounce of regret. My eldest brother influenced in many ways and he taught me many things of which I had no knowledge at all. Now occassionaly I would listen to nasheeds, when I feel like music-i just download the lyrics and sing to myselves! So Alhamdulillah, I have quit music and I feel its a major step in getting closer to Allah and it is Insha Allah a sign that Allah subhanata'ala loves me. I would often read up articles online-beautiful inspiring articles and I believe gathering knowledge that way helped me strengthen my piety. And then while I was in Abudhabi last summer with family, I borrowed a book from my aunt( may Allah reward her-Ameen) it was called "You can be the Happiest Woman in the World" masha Allah, it was a great book and an inspiring read, and it changed me so much and prompted me to get more Islamic books and since then with Allah's grace I have been trying to edge closer and closer to Allah subhanata'ala, trying to do more Ibadah. My getting engaged to Slave of the All-knowing and getting to know them only made it easier for me, they influenced me and motivated me and taught me many things without them even being aware of it. Alhamdulillah. I have had negilgible interaction with the opposite gender. I have always respected and loved my parents, but I'm not doing enough, inshALLAH, I will be a better daughter to them. I respect elders. I'm kind, gentle and I value morals and virtues. I love my Deen, my Lord and His Messenger Sallahi Walaihi Wasallam and I want to insha Allah do my best as a slave of Allah subhanata'ala. May Allah help me fulfill my wish-Ameen. So that's how religious I am.


The words people usually describe me with are: sweet, cute, chubby, beautiful, soft, deeni...these are the most common adjectives used anyway.

Telling you my favorite color alone would be a major give away. Because I'm often connected to it. Infact the color and me are used as synonyms. Everybody-almost everybody who knows me (even some who do not know me) are aware of my obsession with this color and even the sight of this color reminds them of me. Recently a friend commented on a picture I had put on facebook, teasing me about this craze that I have for the color and I told them-it defines me. This color simply defines me. The inner me and outer me. Since I don't really care about giving my selves away, I'll give you the word-Pink.

My room was called pink. It was my hideout. My private space. My most favorite place in our beautiful home. I miss pink. The room is being renovated now for Slave of the All-knowing.

I'm the kind of person who would bump into a wall and apologize to it. Sorry and Thankyou, somehow I always ended up saying either of those. Slave of the All-knowing had noticed that and they are probably tired of them!

I'm shy. Alhamdulillah, that is a quality in me that I thank Allah subhanta'ala abundantly for. Because if it wasn't for my shyness, I might be a completely different person. I'm soft in speech.I talk little, comparatively. The people to whom I talk to freely are countable. Thanks to Allah for that too.

I'm silly, sensitive and tend to get paranoid for absolutely no reason-but ofcourse you'd have figured that much already. I cry easily. I cry when I'm sad, sick, angry, scared, tensed sometimes even happy or when overcome by emotion.

I'm a girl who most girls write off as "Paavam" which in my mother tongue means something like nice and kind. My mom sometimes says I'm tough. I could say I am, at times.

I'm comfortable with silence. It rarely ever matters to me when someone won't talk because I'm often preoccupied with my thoughts. All those years I went to school, My Father, brothers or driver would drop me and I would sit in car in silence thinking, saying Dhikr, if there is an exam I would open my book and try to to take in as much as possible. Being on my own never mattered to me as well, I'm not the type who requires company all the time, but that was untill I knew Slave of the All-knowing. I always needed their company.

I'm big on friendship. It was always me who would bring together my friends and organise a hangout or meet-up, it was always me who took the initiative. I love my friends. I'm big on family too. At home I don't spend much time with my family, except mom. But I enjoy family tours and trips and get-togethers.

I'm a good student, Alhamdulillah. But not the nerdish kind. My favorite subject was and is English. In high school, I was crazy about Biology. Higher Secondary-I was more inclined to liking Business Studies.

I love writing. It needn't be poetry or story or anything. Just writing. Whenever I felt sad about something I would rush to get my diary and write it down. It helped me. I feel better somehow after I do that. I do the same when I'm happy too. I used to write to Slave of the All-knowing everyday since it first happened, because I didn't want them to miss out on anything that I had to tell them. I wrote to them-3 whole books. And then I suddenly stopped, thinking I wouldn't need to again ,till I did, then I wrote a bit, but that's when I started the blog and putting my thoughts here was easier than putting them in a book because I have a Blackberry (a gift from Slave of the All-knowing) and its handy.

I'm very girlie. I love everything a girlie girl loves, except that I don't like to fall over guys. Pink. Clothes. Jewellery. Bags. Shoes. Make-over. Shopping. Hearts. Glitters. Poetry and admittedly Romance.

I have a sweet tooth. Love chocolates and sweets! But I eat very little, I don't know why I am fat. *shrug*

I love nature and animals. I have a special likeness for cats. I totally adore them! I always dreamed of having my very own horse.

I love reading. Used to be addicted to reading fictions (the Twilight Saga and Harry Potter being my mostest favorites) Currently reading The Zahir by Paulo Coelho (very boring, I wouldn't recommend it) but maybe it's simply because I have lost my interest for fictions, these days I read only Islamic books and articles.

Well now you have a general picture of me! That's pretty much it, the rest you can figure out as you read.

Love is tender

"Is love a tender thing? it is too rough,
Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn."
-Romeo (From the play Romeo and Juliette-Shakespeare)

So Shakespeare did have some sense after all. LOL. No offence intended, if you're one of his fans. I do like Shakespeare, I find some of his work to be really good, the rest, I do not understand.

But he is wrong. Love is tender. It is happiness. It is only the absence of it which pricks like a thorn.

I wonder if it's just me. Why am I this way? I wish it wouldn't be this way. I wish I could be myself. I miss being me. The carefree, cheerful girl that I used to be. But it is wrong of me to dump it all on their shoulders-Slave of the All-knowing's. There's a lot more to my being this way.

I had dreaded this. Expected it. Everytime they failed to give me a firm answer on the matter,I knew. What hurt me so bad was something else that they did, and yet I respect it immensely, they did it only out of their fear for Allah. Masha Allah. Only a few minutes ago, I was reading this article "10 ways to win Allah's love" and one of the ways was to do that which Allah loves over that thing which we love. Subhanallah. That is exactly what Slave of the All-knowing is doing right now. And what right have I to be sad about that? No. I'm happy about that. Jannah is surrounded by hardships and Jahannam is surrounded by temptaion. This is hardship for me and them-i believe and this is not falling into temptation. Insha Allah, may Allah subhanata'ala reward Slave of the All-knowing abundantly for making me see that-Ameen.

But love is tender. I am all about love. And I can't help hurting despite wishing I wouldn't.

Inexplicable

They heard me. Me calling their name in that special way that I adress them. They heard my desperate pleads. And this ain't the first time. They have heard me before too, somehow, inexplicably. They said they were pleased with me. Insha Allah, what more do I want to hear from them? It is something that I ask Allah subhanta'ala for in all my duas, at the end of every salah-make them pleased with me Allah. And I pray that they always will be-insha Allah-Ameen. Alhamdulillah.

I hoped they would, but I never belived they would. It was a moment of relief. As if I was lifted from this for a few seconds and then plunged back into it.

I cried. Mother and Father asked me why. I didn't tell them. They can guess. But they do not understand. It is love. And when you love someone, needless to say, you need them, you miss them - as simple as that. The pain of missing someone very badly. The pain of notbeing able to hear from that someone you love. The pain of not being able to give your love to the same someone. How may I explain that to my parents?!

Then there are other worries, other reasons to my sadness and some of the 'wedding blues' as someone wrongly interpreted this yesterday. Maybe I'm being too dramatic. But hey, this is me. This is how I am.

They said "Yours". They were mine. They are mine. Oh how I love them.

Snapped

The exhaustion. The frustration. That feeling. I lie on the bed, in our hotel room, I wince, close my eyes tight and wait for the tears. They came, reluctantly. And then mother, my mother came to me with her words of assurance, and then I snapped, hugging her close and tight, I cried on her shoulders, till she stopped me, joking with me, assuring me.

I wish I knew what they were thinking right now. I wish I could spot traces of regret in their mind. I know they miss me.

Their voice. I need to hear their voice. Listen to them laugh. Hear the smile in that sweetness of their voice. I keep saying their name in my head. Calling. Pleading. So much that they should almost hear me.

I know I said I wouldn't talk of this anymore. But you see, I had to, that was the whole point of the blog.

I always thought I was quite independant. And I am. But yet I need so many people for my mental well-being. Their presence is a necessity for me. Their affection, care, support and love. In true sense it should be a person who requires none of those who ought to be called independant.

27 O's just for me

"A looooooooooooooooooooooooooot<3" they told me once, to a question I had asked. And I told them that it was the best answer ever, and it was the best they had given me.

27 O's just for me. They typed 27 O's for me. Love it.

Slave of the All-knowing is full of surprises-One of the many things I love about them.

Bottled up

Bottled up- a poem I had written for them when this first happened. Perhaps quoting it here will reveal my idenity, because some of my friends had read it and they would know, but I don't really care.

Bottled up
For you I keep my love bottled up.
On my mouth which yearns to speak, a hand I clap.

And I find it hard to breathe,
And I find it hard to breathe.

I shun my heart which aches for you,
My ears longing to hear from you.

And that makes me feel so lost,
And that makes me feel so lost.

But this hurtful silence I bear for Allah's sake,
Praying that He'll reward us for all the pain that we take.

It is not much. Just some lines. But they are true.

Reminding

I'm travelling and I just passed by a Wrangler. And pang- I'm reminded of them. O Allah- this is not easy!

Reminding. What do I need reminding for? They never leave my thoughts. As profound in my head as anything. Loud and perpetual. So what's this reminding? It isn't reminding. It is perhaps making me a think a little more of them than I am already.

Missing them

Isn't it funny, that once you start loving somebody in that special way, everything you do reminds you of them, and when you're missing them, like I'm missing my Slave of the All-knowing, it is even more. Like, I was just listening to Muhammed Al Shareef's "How to be an outstanding Husband" and how much that reminded me of them! Reminded me of one evening when I was listening to "How to be an outstanding wife" by the same lecturer, sprawled on the floor of my room and I had told them about it; and they told me "You will be, insha Allah". And yet another evening, "Better than me?" They had asked.

And reciting Surah Ar-Rahman reminded me of them- my favorite Surah, they found it beautiful too, although their favorite is Surah Al-Asr.

It is quite strange that every word they shared with me was simply amazing. Be it a casual "watsup?" I brighten at even that! Such is my love for them. Even when they said something that I completely disliked, I was surprised to notice that I liked them sharing even that with me. I actually enjoyed even a joke they pulled on me! I miss their "Lol'"s. I miss their "Temme"'s. Believe me, you don't want me to go on cause the list is LONG! Because I miss them that bad. Every second that ticks away. Every minute of my day.



Perhaps, reader, you find this laughable. Well, laugh all you want.

"All you want". "You crazy." They told me. "All I want" they said. And I just about flew with pleasure.

I write, but to relieve my mind, so i dont really care if you're laughing at this. But if They were to laugh at this, that is unacceptable, that I won't ignore. "And Allah has put love and mercy between their hearts". Allah has put love and mercy between mine and their hearts-insha Allah. And that Love is inescapable. It is involontary. As natural as blinking your eyes-effortless. So I can't help missing them, longing for them because I love them. Laugh and see if I care.

Oh even saying that reminds me of an instance with them! It was beautiful; how sweetly unexpected they can be at times.

My need for them

My need for the Slave of All-knowing had a lot more to it than just desire and temptation or want. It was a need. A necessity. Like the need for the oxygen that I breathe in. Which should be why I find it hard to breathe now. Because I still need them. Over time I had learned to supress that need.

I prided over having patience. But do I really? I do, I suppose. But they, they are so much more patient than I am. I always thought it was the other way around. I only recently realized that it was a wrong presumption. I know for sure, Alhamdulillah, that Slave of the All-knowing needs me as well. Oh how I miss them! Like I miss no other. A feeling I can barely contain. A feeling filling my insides bursting to be let out. Love. Hear my Slave of the All-knowing- I love you. And those are not words of play or infatuation, I mean them. Love you as I love my family. Even more in some ways. Love you for the sake of Allah. It is a need to even love you like my need for your love.

I wonder if they feel the same way. Could they be missing me the same way? They always were much more mature than me when it came to that. Perhaps it is the difference in our Piousness? If I were a person of stronger Iman, maybe I could understand and accept this as they do-Allah is Sufficient for us. But I am after all an 18 year old passionately in love.

Oh how I love you-Slave of the All-knowing! How I yearn to please you, be with you, have you content, pleased and satisfied with me! Insha Allah.

Allah give me Saboor. Make me one among the Sabireen. Ameen.

You're beautiful

"You're beautiful"-well chosen words to leave me with-the words that will run through my head till insha Allah, the day Slave of the All-knowing mentioned is here.

Allahuakbar

So i ask myself-How can I cheer me up? I could watch a funny movie. I could listen to any of my old favorite music on the interenet. No. Movies dont entertain me like before, Alhamdulillah. And music even though my likeness for them still exists, I dont listen to them anymore, Alhamdulillah again. I could call up a friend who could make me laugh, but I dont feel like. So here's what I will do, am doing-I go to my blog and type my thoughts.

"Verily in remembrance of Allah do hearts find rest" Why! Allah Subhanata'ala has the answer for us! Remember him. Thats what I shall do, Insha Allah. How do I remember Allah subhanata'ala? There are so many things I could do. Salah. Quran. Dhikr. Insha Allah, what I have decided to do is learn the 100 beautiful names of Allah Subhanata'ala with meaning. Alhamdulillah, I have memorised the names, but I do not know the meaning of all of them. So I'm thinking, what better way to remember Allah Subhanata'ala than learning all His names which clearly describes Him?! Insha Allah, May Allah help me learn them.

There are other things that I could do too. I have yet to finish reading "Important Lessons for Muslim Women" and "1000 sunan of the Prophet Sallahi Walaihi Wasallam". And the pdf file of "An Ideal Muslimah" sits in my computer inviting me to be read. The pdf file of "A Muslim Marriage guide" also awaits me. I have started a course on learning arabic, I havent even completed the first lesson. Slave of the All-knowing would like me to do that,infact they would like me to do all the above mentioned things. They love Allah, and that's what I love the best about them. Masha Allah.

And the list goes on! Quran translation, I had started off with Al-Baqara on the first day of last Ramadan and havent read it since. Ya Allah, I must defenitely do some reading of the translation, Insha Allah.

Allah be with me. Ameen.

Incredible. How different you feel as soon as you put your trust in ALLAH. Allahu akbar.

A New Turn

Perhaps if I opt a new turn i would feel better? insha Allah. My grandparents were with me today. My gran, she can't walk, i was thinking, how hard must that be? how much must it hurt to have two feet but you cant walk on them? SubhanaAllah. May Allah reward my grandmother for bearing her affliction with patience-Ameen. And i thought, what are my feelings compared to hers? I dont even have a right to feel this. What has happened has happened only for my good, insha Allah, then why am i brooding over this like Allah hasn't given me enough to be happy about?! Asthafirullah. Asthafirullah.

So i decided to not talk about this, or rather post about this when there are so many innumerable things that I could post and that will insha Allah cheer me up. So I opt a new turn. No more pain stories. Optimism. Allah is with me. I believe that with firm conviction. What have I to be sad about when Allah-my Lord, the Creater of the heavens and the earth and of all things between them, the Protecter and Sustainer, the most Merciful and Compassionate is with me?

Feel so much better already. Alhamdulillah.

But that pang. what do I about that pang?

Facade

Unlike last time, I can't even put up a facade, I try but this feeling it punches holes in my mask and shows itself-plain and naked on face, in my words. And they read, as from a book, the distress that I'm in.

Laughter- in desperate need of laughter. I wish someone would give me that. Talk to me. Distract me. Give me a break from these thoughts.

I doubt if I even have the strength to put up a facade, bearing this and not being able to let it out seems to have taken up all the strength in me. Broken. In pieces.

How long untill I can laugh a hearty laugh again? I wish this would pass. Its aching all over. Shattering me.

Allah, you are the Giver of all things. Give me strenth. Give me Saboor. Ameen.

I cry

I cry. Cry into my pillows. My eyes closed tight. O Allah I can't take this, O Allah I can't bear this, make me strong Allah, help me bear this-I cried, my pillow muffling my voice, my tears soaking them.



O Allah help me. I turn to you.

The beauty of my Deen

Islam- submission. Submission to the will of Allah Subhanata'ala. As simple as that. But yet, isn't it amazing that there is not a single aspect of life that this religion does not cover? SubhanaAllah, it is. Islam is beauty. "When lewdness becomes a part of anything it becomes defective and when Hayaa is a part of anything it becomes beautiful". Hayaa-mostly interpreted as shyness. Isn't it beautiful of our religion to encourage shyness? And discourage lewdness? That is but one example. I wish I could provide you with more, but my knowledge is limited.

I thank Allah for the honour of Islam on me. There is nothing more beautiful than submitting to the will of Allah.

The Deen is perfect. Allah has perfected it for us. In it there is an answer to every question, a solution to every problem and a way out of every mess.

I had written a poem once, I think I had named it "The beauty of Belief in Allah". I have yet to complete it, insha Allah, I should post it here.

Posting my thoughts here, like writing helps me relieve so much.

So human.

Pardon me O reader, for I certainly have been depressing you. How ungrateful to Allah Subhanata'la am I being? He has given me innumerable things. So much that I have to thank and be grateful and accountable to him for! SubhanaAllah! And here I am, going on about this! How ungrateful of me. So human. How easily do we forget our blessings? Forgive me Allah.By Allah, even this is a blessing to me!

How beautiful is Islam. There is no sadness in it. How perfect is that? There is no reason for a Mu'min (believer) to be sad. I lerned that from the Slave of The All-knowing. So why am I sad now? Beacuse I have not attained perfection of faith? Or beacuse I'm a silly 18 year old girl? Insha Allah, I will try not to be sad, I have no reason to be sad, but I am after all, a human. I slip. I fall.

Our beloved Prophet Sallahi Walaihi Wasallam said : "How wonderful is the affair of the believer, for his affairs are all good, and that does not apply to anyone except the believer. If something good happens to him he is grateful and that is good for him, and if some harm befalls him he bears it with patience, and that is also good for him." Verily, how beautiful is that? It is one of those many Hadiths that just makes you overwhelmed with the sheer beauty of your religion and love for your Lord.

The worst part and the bright side

The worst part of this whole thing is that it was mostly my mistake, or so I feel, as I always end up feeling; and even worse, its the second time. The concept of learning from your mistakes is something I have yet to grasp.
The bright side- I feel a righteousness about it all, sensible.

It makes me want to share this with somebody, let it all out, the frustration, the pain, but who? There's no one I can say this to. Surely, Allah knows what's in my heart and so I turn to him. Allah loves Al-Muhsinoon. Allah is with me. "...Indeed with hardship comes ease..."-Another beautiful ayah that I love and keep saying in my head. I believe in the promises of Allah Subhanata'ala, this is hardship for me, so indeed, inshAllah, ease will come and I patiently await it. So this, this incident inshAllah, I pray that it will make me a woman of stronger faith and piety-ameen-thats the bright side.

It still hurts like crazy though.

Why?

Why am I feeling that way, you may ask. Why am I broken? Ho may I explain so that I don't reveal my identity? Impossible. Well, let's just say that something was to happen that hurt me. But it is for Allah. And Allah is with the patient, they said, an ayah I have loved ever since I learnt it. Patience - a quality I always prided myself in having (May ALLAH forgive me-Ameen.), and yet I don't seem to have mastered it, if I had, I wouldn't be hurting now. This hurts, even though I fully understand that it is for good and that InshALLAH, I will be rewarded for this. Because the prophet Sallahi Walaihi Wasallam said that not even the pain of a prick of thorn is borne with patience except that ALLAH Subhanata'ala will expiate the person's sins for it.

Introduction

Bismillahi Rahamani Raheem. (Beginning in the name of Allah, the most merciful, the most compassionate)

Asslamualaikum.

I have always wanted to create a blog. My idea of a blog was somewhere I could write all I wanted, everything I felt, every emotion, every thought that occupies or runs through my head, more like a diary, but unlike things written in a diary, i would like people to read this, to know me, to hear me out, the thought that somewhere some person might be randomly reading my blog pleases me, whether it entertains them, benefits them or even if they think its the most silliest and crappiest thing they've read-it would still please me.

You don't need to know who i am, perhaps you'll figure out anyway, but i'm not revealing my identity. A little mystery to me.

At the moment, I feel so broken. shattered. void. empty. It's like i'm falling from a tower, and the thought "For Allah" is the rope that I'm clinging to, thats the thought that keeps me going. The pain, the emptiness, or rather the repetition of the incident is so unbearable that it makes me want to run, run with all the strength in me, barefooted, through a dark deserted place and feel the wind against me, let the wind go through my lungs, make me pant hard and cause me to forget this during those minutes that i take to catch my breath. Run. I want to run away from this. But I can't. My conscience tells me that is only for good, that this is the right thing, this is what Allah has decreed and it is nothing but a blessing. I believe my conscience. But does that change anything? That belief certainly is not helping me hold my selves together while I'm in pieces. But it gives me hope; that this feeling will pass, that I will be better, happy even, because I put my trust in ALLAH.