Starring in my dreams

They have been starring in my dreams every night these days. I rarely ever remember my dreams, sometimes I would remember them vaguely, and I remember that they were in my dream or it was about them. My dreams about them was always close to the reality that I have with them, except for maybe three times, those dreams were different. And I had one of those, last night was it? I couldn't be sure, maybe the night before. But dream I did.

Strange. Even subconsciously I'm thinking about them.

I smile

I heard from them, again. Only this time, it wasn't a response to my desperate pleads, because I had stopped pleading and calling their name in my head. Every time I see that little icon on my phone, I hope against all possibilities that it's them, and when I see it isn't, disappointment washes over me. Although today, I was sure that it wasn't them, I was ready to embrace the disappointment, but to my surprise, it's them.

And I smile my biggest smile. I smile because it was so different from last time. I smile because I'm no longer hurting.

All praises be to Allah.

More Reflection

"Detatchment (from the Dunya) is not that you should own nothing but that nothing should own you."
-Ali Radi Allahu Anhu

Just read this quote on www.igotitcovered.com. Masha Allah, one of my favorite websites, truly beautiful.

Reflecting on the quote: I own many things. Does anything own me? I'm sure nothing material owns me, not even food. Alhamdulillah, I eat very little comparatively, I have no idea why I'm fat. Anyway, so Alhamdulillah, I'm not attatched to anything material but I think I'm attached to people. I need their love. I need their presence and I need to stay connected to them. My mother, the foremost of these people. I need her and she needs me. My father, my brothers, my family, I need them all. And you are well aware of my need for Slave of the All-knowing. But do they own me? No. I'm firm. Nobody owns me, but Allah, my Creator.

But I tend to love Slave of All-knowing a little too much, so much that I just can't say No to them and I would go to various lengths to please them because I want them to be content in me, but they deserve it, and that is how I should be. That is obeying Allah. Insha Allah.

Imitating the West

Hair down, tight jeans, crappy shoes and a freakishly odd looking top-and they think they're on top of the world! Whatever happened to femininity? Whatever happened to the grace, gentleness and beauty that was always attributed to women?! Admittedly yes, some of them are beautiful, but the others-seriously what are they thinking? That if they dress like that and carry themselves as if they were owners of the planet that they can be Somebody? I mean, isn't there like a limit to impersonation and imitation of the west? What's so great about the West anyway? Sure the Indian women can wear jeans, and the men can wear converse all they want, but surely, they can't grow blonde hair on their heads? Or colour their eyes blue? Guys and Girls every where. They think it's cool. But it's SO NOT. What different idea of Cool they have. Grace is the right kind of Cool.

It is quite disheartening to notice that the once so beautiful Indian Culture is perishing or rather transforming to a pathetic imitation of the west. So if this is how India has become, I dread to think how worse the west have gotten. I like to imagine someone like Gandhiki or Nehru seeing these people-the Indian youth-they'll probably faint!

Well maybe it's wrong of me to just get mad at the Indian youth for imitating the west. The arabs are no different, I have seen even Grandmothers wearing jeans beneath their Abaya. And the chinese or japanese or whoever-all look up to the west. But I think it's just the Indians who are blindly imitating the west. Or so i believe.

Walking through the streets of this place and I'm thinking about the Prophet Sallahi Walaihi Wassallam's words - "Women will be wearing clothes, but not wearing clothes". SubhanaAllah, That is exactly the case.

And their english! Ugh. It just bugs me like crazy! To listen to them, with that increasingly annoying tone and accent. Thank Allah- I do not have that Indian touch to my english by some miracle. And why are they always speaking english? You know like ALWAYS. Maddeningly so. To show off undoubtedly. But why is English language treated as something to be showed off? I never understood that. Crazy people.

Learn to speak arabic. Then you have something to show off. And yet, my Slave of the All-knowing never showed off with it. Masha Allah, I love their modesty.

English is easy peasy. The language is a piece of cake, adhering to its rules is perhaps tough.

By the way, I wear jeans, and I wear converse and I intend no offence to English language, in fact I love it and I'm in fact a BA English student.


May Allah Subhanata'ala save my Nation from corruption. Ameen.

October

60 days from today, 61 to be exact. Too long in some ways, too short in other ways. Insha Allah.

Allah only knows how I can get through. Ya Allah make it easy for me. Help me make the best use of my time, make my heart turn to you and enlighten it with noor-Ameen.

Niqabis

Niqabis- they are so beautiful. I totally adore and respect them. There is so much grace and modesty and dignity in that beautiful attire. There are many of them in here, and each time one passes by I gawk at them with so much respect and adoration. Insha Allah, I aspire to become a niqabi. So what's keeping me? And to that I have no answer. Wordly pleasures; maybe that's an answer.

Phase 2

I'm past hurting like crazy and now its just the pain of missing them-phase 2.

I miss them like crazy. Not hearing from them is the hardest thing. Not being able to look forward to hearing from them hurts so bad.

I hate not knowing what they are up to. I hate not being able to tell then what I'm up to.

But Alhamdulillah, atleast I don't feel broken and shattered anymore. I'm whole, pretty close to being happy.

But I cried even this morning. I must be crazy. I am. About them.