You Don't Have to Love What I Say...

Those of you who know me, tend to realize fairly quick that I'm a highly sensitive individual..

As with many other qualities, sensitivity has its pros and its cons...

And one of the cons (atleast for the one who has this quality) is that it hurts ... a lot ... at times. I actually admire people with thick-skins, at times ... nothing seems to scratch them. For me, you show one sign of disapproval, or disappointment, or worst - hatred, and boy oh boy ... I will 'pass out' with a fit of pain. I'm trying to change this quality; but I must say it has its (negative) side affects.

In any case, so you know, I always had this issue: I would speak my mind, and I would see negative reactions here & there, and this would seriously bum me out. Until very recently, when I had another one of those days...

And while I was under going my usual stages of being hurt, it STRUCK me: so what?

I actually realized that when I become hurt over people's reactions, it means (at least in my case) that I am doing it for the sake of people's approval. And isn't that just low?

This is when sh. Muhammad AlShareef's words started making sense to me... I once heard him advise some sister that if you are afraid by you taking [this-and-this] action your friends/sisters in the community would be upset, then you're probably not doing for the sake of Allah. At the time of hearing this, I was like ... umm yeah. too deep. loll

But now I get it, Alhamdulillah. It's true. You don't define me (please don't take it personally). What matters is that I follow what I believe is right.

So as one scholar (of our times) said so wisely; the whole Muslim Ummah might not ever love you, but you sure can love the whole Ummah.

So here it is.

ready?...

I love you.

aaawwww... i know ... i'll stop now.

All over $6.99...

SubhanAllah, it was as though I was meant to witness this...

I walk into a local fastfood dine-in restaurant at a time of heavy traffic and high tension...

This young father gets up from his table and starts addressing the manager in a harsh and irritated tone requesting his money back due to the excessive wait. The manager tries to reason with the young man, but to no avail. From the background the mother cheers her husband on, and encourages him to cancel the order (even though it seemed to be nearly done).

The psychology and tensions within this young couple's marital life were quite evident as well, and I could only feel pity for the wife and kids.

In any case, so the the family left, with the man leading in a haughty mood, and that's when the fun started... =p

You see, the poor cook - an eager 20 year old boy - intervened in the middle of the tense scene between the young couple and the manager, and advised his supervisor to control his temper.

As if you didn't expect it, the middle aged uncle-jee quickly made his way to the kitchen (which is an 'open concept' so I could hear them speak), and decided to fix this witty young man. He started. And he insulted. And then he came down to humiliating the poor boy, who simply tried to resist talking back, and just took in all the insults and taunts.

"The only reason you're here is because of your Mamoo (Uncle), you don't even have the skills level to cook ... I'm your father's age, talk to me with respect ... bohot hee apni jurrat se bahar barre hoei ho ... bai-sharam ..." And the taunts continued...

The situation climaxed, till I thought something serious would happen. But, Alhamdulillah, there was a very wise customer who was next in line; he first defended the young boy and gave him some words of encouragement, then advised the supervisor (I could not hear the exact words). And left with his food package in hand. SubhanAllah, the situated calmed down considerably, and 10mins later, I too walked out with my sandwiches.

You won't believe how badly I needed to see this scene.

The first things I realized, while the episode was unfolding in front of me, were how foolish expressions of anger were; the young customer who stalked off angrily, probably only increased his own blood pressure level, and created for himself a negative image in front of all the people present. The wife who encouraged him probably only encouraged him to persist in his terrible attitude of being rash; no doubt a quality he carries inside the home as well.

The supervisor created a politically tense situation in his own workplace, and ruined the image of his restaurant for possibly an unknown number of customers.

Not to mention the boy might end up quitting/loosing his job after a while if the conflict perpetuates.

Due to one man's bad character a drama unfolded, lasting nearly 30 minutes, causing at least 3 people to displease Allah, and break their ties of friendship.

You know how much the canceled order was worth? $6.99.

It's not worth what we destroy ourselves over.

As I said, I really did need that reminder, may Allah allow us to control our tempers and perfect our characters.

Your Smile

You did charm me with your flair, but when I walked closer, and when I looked into your eyes, I saw the hollowness that resided their in.

Your smile was deceptive. Your laughter, frightening. Your voice, ever so threatening. Every step I chose to take towards you, my heart pained and my mind drained (of its functionality).

Every step I took towards you, I wondered why I took it, until I was so near to you, so close, that we almost became one. And every moment I spent with you, every second being close to you...I swear I despised you more.

Yet I wondered why I kept walking towards you.

And now that I have left you, and I have seen you, and I have even felt you, and I know that you are not for me. So why does your call still strike my heart?

Surely your eyes were large black holes to darkness, and your beauty so deceptive, and your laughter so threatening. But you still call to me, and every time you call to me, I incline, but then I resist. I incline, but then I resist. I incline, but then I resist.

Indeed, you are the most deceptive, harmful, yet alluring object to me.

Crazy world, by Allah, never again will I approach you. O Allah, let me never approach her.

[note: not talking about a girl... haha, so please..]

Clarification on my Father's statement

I recently realized the statement I paraphrased from my father, dating back several years could be very easily taken out of context!

Whoa! First of all, that was my dad's point-of-view, not necessarily mine. I quoted that statement to show his depth of insight and the strong intellect that I was always impressed by mashAllah.

Second, whatever he said applied to a specific era and context he was speaking in; as I said earlier, I don't recall when exactly we had that conversation, but I do recall it making a lot of sense at the time. For those of us who are aware of the Canadian context for the past 1 or 2 decades know that there were times when we as a community really lacked thinkers and scholars. I highly doubt my father even would make such a statement today, considering how he himself attends halaqaat of scholars, and encourages me to do the same, alhamdulillah.

I realize my vagueness in speaking, and conciseness in speech causes confusion at times, but please always try to make the best of my intent behind things I say! :)

Just a random note for those who might have wondered.

The World Isn't Crazy

...But I was nearing madness.

Alhamdulillah, I like to say, I'm back inshAllah.

I wasn't traveling. But a part of me had disappeared.

Many of you, close to me, I'm sure noticed strange and shocking changes in my personality lately. And so I like to publically delcare that by the will and persmission of Allah, I will be returning back to the way I used to be a year or two ago ... well, for the most part any way.

Alhamdulillah, in everything there is good, and certainly there was good in this struggle.

May Allah let not a year like this pass over me again, unless there is good in it.

It won't be easy picking up the pieces, and mending the the broken twos and broken threes, but inshAllah, with due time...

ma'assalam

p.s. there are no guarantees that I'll start blogging again, mind you..

I like the greys...

I'm not a genius, nor exceptionally intelligent. In fact, according to the standard of the Quran of those who think, I probably don't even fit into that category...

But I am always puzzled by the simplistic categorizations we have made in attempts of defining the world.

Maybe I'm a bit naive, but I like to think there are a lot more shades of grey than solid chunks of black & white... Many more commonalities than differences. Many more positives than negatives.

Strange world view huh?

Parents are Precious Jewels

Our devaluation of our elders is one of our greatest self-inflicted losses today.

Every father and every mother is special, and a jewel gifted to a child; perhaps one of the greatest wonders of this world is the parent-child relationship; after all, what causes a grown man and woman to sacrifice so much for a helpless child? Alhamdulillah...

And while every father and mother is special, my father has yet to stop amazing me...

When I was barely 10 years old, or perhaps 12, I still remember to this day, my dad turned around to the back seat in the car, where I was sitting, and said to me in his usual gentle tone - as if speaking to a grown up man deserving of such respect - that we are living in an era and place [referring to North America] where Islamic knowledge is scarce and anyone who speaks with eloquence is promoted to the biggest stage to speak as an 'Aalim (scholar).

As I said, I was a kid at the time he said this, and I am sure he knew well enough that I was too immature to understand what he was talking about, so I know not why he would say such a heavy statement. Perhaps he sensed that I would remember that statement of his for a long time to come?

Ever since I can remember my father was a humble worker, doing the grass-roots laborious work in which ever Islamic organization or project he got involved in. He truly disliked leadership, I remember vividly one day, not too long ago, when I was passing by his room, how I heard him speaking to someone in a tense tone, saying that he could not bear the burden of the leadership role he had held one extra day, and that a replacement better be arranged in time ... what's an extra day? This was the first actual position my father had accepted in the longest time I could remember, and after one short term, he was weary of it and wanted out.

Not too long after we came to Canada (many, many years ago), my dad had started going to jails on a regular basis as a Muslim chapel. Not because some organization had delegated that position, but because he felt that was where he was needed. And all throughout the years that I have seen him, he has promoted and actively been part of dawa initiatives, whether it be street dawa, new-convert support programs, or simply teaching at his workplace.

As an Accounting College Instructor he seems to constantly be on the look out to start conversations with his students about religion in general and Islam in specific. Every now and then I find him looking for a specific book, or a copy of the Quran in a specific language that he needs to give to some student who he had been working on...

Parents know very well what stage their child is at; it was as if my father was simply waiting for me to come of age; one day, again in the car, while we were coming back from Maghrib salah, my father started talking to me in an highly unusual and emotional tone, and he narrated to me a hadeeth, which I needed to hear at that time. It was almost as if Allah was inspiring him to say those words to me, subhanAllah.

Look to your parents, you don't know the gems that they maybe, and the fruits that hang from them, ripe for your picking.

Strange Land, Strange Heart

You are but a stranger on this strange land. A passer-by on this dusty piece of land.

Perhaps disillusioned about the shortness of your stay by your inexperience of living.

Surely one day the Sun will not be given permission to rise over this dusty piece of land, and the moon that you admired for its beauty will no longer float over you. And the stars that some among you were dazzled by will no longer shine, far away from you.

And the strange clout that you surrounded your self with. The long conversations you delved into. The great deception you pulled others into. And the false hopes you hid behind will surely all be sorted out. And I wonder where we will stand?

The heart is a strange thing for it forgets what the mind knows.

RSS Feed Subsctibers to my Blog...

I think my stats program is busted ... it shows me a lower number of visitors than it should be.

The stats program doesn't record the info on RSS feed readers.

So if you read this blog normally, using some sort of an RSS reader (i.e. not directly from my website), can you please take a moment and just leave a random comment on this post saying so?

You don't have to mention your name or anything, and I don't receive the email address information that you may or may not enter ... so please just comment.

Could make a difference in how regularly i post here... thanks.

Let the Quran be your drinking Fountain

While taking a shower, this hit me...

Many people criticise certain da'ees of our times and the recent past for writing materials that they were not qualified to write; like writing a 'tafseer' on the Quran when they had no understanding of how it was done in the scholarly community.

Many of the people who made such bold moves, you will find, have also done something significant in their own lives and contexts.

And so it hit me ... sure, maybe not everything in their commentary of the Quran might be agreeable (then again, which scholars' work is?) ... but it signifies something great...

Their connection with the Quran.

The only reason that many of these people had a burning desire to spend countless hours penning away a commentary, verse by verse of the entire Quran, could be their heartfelt emotional attachment to the beautiful verses contained their in.

For we are told that whom so ever Allah loves, He increases them in understanding.

And it is no secret that Allah gives certain slaves of His, who reach a certain level (in their connection with Him) certain insights that the rest of the world is blind to.

The real point of this post is not to defend these noble people, because their reputation is in the hands of Allah, and if they were sincere then Allah will raise their status as He does for all His beloved slaves.

The real point of this post is to bring to light the importance of taking the Quran as our source for enlightenment. The companions of the Prophet (pbuh) did not graduate from any prominent Islamic university, and they certainly were not aware of the Islamic sciences that exist today; but they had quenched their thirst from the Quran and the Prophet's Sunnah, which was there to elaborate and expound on the Quran.

May Allah allow us to drink from the Quran like the beloved companions of the Prophet.