A life time to look forward to, inshaAllah 🙂
A life time to look forward to, inshaAllah 🙂
I long for the days of uncertainty, when I struggled to understand, to learn, to grow.
I long for the hours I spent studying, worshiping, growing mentally and spiritually.
I felt weakest during those times. Little did I know how strong I was! But it wasn’t my own strength, no, it was God helping me every step of the way and guiding me. و من يتق الله يجعل له مخرجا … و يرزقه من حيث لا يحتسب
It’s been too long and I want to go back. My heart and body and soul aches for the comfort and sweetness I felt at the time.
The longer I wait to get back, the darker it will get, and the harder it will be to find my way back…
طويل الشوق يبقى في اغتراب
فــقـــير في الحيـــاة من الصحاب
ومــن يــأمــنــك يـا دنيا الــدواهــي
تدوسين المصاحــب فـي الـتراب
وأعــجـب مـن مـريـدك وهـو يــدري
بأنــك فـي الـــورى أم الـــعـجاب
ولــولا أن لـــي مــنــعــى جميلا
لــبــعــت الــمكث فيها بالـذهاب
رأيــــت الله فــي ذا الـــكــون ربــــا
جـــمــيــع الـــكـائـنـات لـه تحاب
شـــــواهــــد أنــــه فــــرد جـــليل
عــلــى رغــم الـمجاهل بالكذاب
تــــأمــــل قـــدرة الــرحمـــن وأنظر
ســيــهـــديـــك الـتـأمـل للصواب
ومـــد الـــطـرف فــي كـل الـنواحي
سـؤالــك سـوف يـرجـع بالجواب
تـــــفـيء مـن ظـلال الأرض حـيـنـا
ولا تـــغـــتـر يـــومــا بــالـــسراب
وقــــف فـوق الـقـبـور فــرب ذكــرى
ســــتـــحـمـدها وتـأوي بـالإياب
ورتــــل نـــغــمــة الـــقــرآن تــلقـى
يـبـاعــدك الــثــواب عــن العقاب
وتــــابــــع مــــرســلا هـاد حــكيما
أشــعــة حــكمــه مــن كل باب
I love this poem.. especially the line I bolded…
Now blue October, smoky in the sun,
Must end the long, sweet summer of the heart.
The last brief visit of the birds is done,
They sing the autumn songs before they part.
Listen, how lovely—there’s the thrush we heard
When June was small with roses, and the bending
Blossom of branches covered nest and bird,
Singing the summer in, summer unending—
Give me your hand once more before the night;
See how the meadows darken with the frost,
How fades the green that was the summer’s light.
Beauty is only altered, never lost,
And love, before the cold November rain,
Will make its summer in the heart again.
16.67% is not a random number.
It means something, though I don’t know what yet.
But I have hope in the future. Something special out there.
It wall all fall into place.
The papers had been waiting patiently in my bag since the morning.
Trapped in the post-examination time-out session, I pulled out the blue file and began to read.
Behind me, I could hear the chaos of question-reviewing.
“It was A!”
And other bits and pieces regarding the perineal body, enteroccous species, and cervical intraepithelial neoplasia. But with a few words, I became disconnected from my surroundings.
I was far, far away. And I was much more than just a spectator: I was sitting cross-legged listening to the Friday sermon myself, admiring the exquisite design of the pillars of the mosque myself, and I too met the Sheikh who had a white beard borrowed from the clouds. He was just one of those people you feel comfortable with upon first encounter, and I took a piece of his silent wisdom with me forever.
They were in Amman… they were in a small, cramped-up, dull room.. some revising mistakes, some gloating over their clever answers, and some adamantly making a case for why they put “All of the above”.
Meanwhile, I was in Madinah, where some were reading Quran, some standing in prayer, and some engulfed in prostration whispering supplication after supplication. I too was in the Prophet’s city , being torn apart, fighting the lump in my throat trying to say goodbye. I entered Rawdet Al-Jannah to pray two rak’ahs myself (although my recall of the experience was more traumatic, as the space was extremely limited and packed). I too, left in unbearable tears.
They were still in Amman. Still arguing that the correct answer was “C” without doubt.
I continued on to reach Meccah; reliving my countless visits there. I could feel the cold, white tiles underneath my feet. There I was, circling around the Ka’ba, the only place where one walks in circles out of unity and not out of confusion or lack of direction or purpose. Then my eyes fell upon the black stone, our blessed connection to heaven, and I wondered whether I would be able to approach it up close. Fortunately, everything was unfolding smoothly today, and I made my way through the crowds to greet the stone our Prophet once marked with his own lips.
My eyes had welled up with tears, my lips had parted many smiles, and my feet almost felt tired from all the walking…
Soon enough, it was time to be released from their custody (back in Amman) and leave that small room. I looked around and realized how detached I’d been while we were all waiting for our freedom.
Just as he pulled out the Siwak from his pocket, I pulled out those papers from my bag.
For there are memoirs that can take you away… small, unexpected objects, that allow you to peacefully disconnect-to enter another time, another place, another state of mind.