What the hay…!

I know most of you must have heard this nasheed and might know the lyrics. (In case somebody doesn’t here’s a link for it u can find many different nasheeds here).

Anyway, I was just listening to the nasheed and thought of puttin up the lyrics since I love the poetry. So here’s to uncle Yusuf Islam!

God is the Light
How great the wonder of the heavens
And the timeless beauty of the night
How Great, then how Great, the Creator?

But like the sun sets with the call to prayer
And surrenders to the night
Here too, are signs
God is the Light Everlasting!
God is the Light Everlasting!
God is the Light Everlasting!
God is the Light Everlasting!

Gabriel Garcia Marquez: 

(On process): “When I sit down to write, which is the essential moment in my life, I am completely alone.  . . .Whenever I write a book, I accumulate a lot of documentation.  That background material is the most intimate part of my private life.  It’s a little embarrassing–like being seen in your underwear. . . .  It’s like the way magicians never tell others how they make a dove come out of a hat. . . .  There isn’t anything more wonderful than writing when you truly have a book in your grip.  That is what I call inspiration.  There is a definite state of mind that exists when one is writing that is called inspiration.  But that state of mind is not a divine whisper, as the romantics thought.  What it is is the perfect correspondence between you and the subject you’re working on.  When that happens, everything starts to flow by itself.  That is the greatest joy one can have, the best moment.”

Ok…make all the fun you want but this was the second poem I wrote for my Poetry class.

It’s an image poem, really. If I can, I might upload the image too. I like the image waaay more than I like the actual poem, though. I guess that goes without saying. Hehe.

The story behind this poem is amazing, which is why, despite the 3/5 I got on it from the teacher (hehe), I still love it. It’s become something like a cherished memory.

We were supposed to hand in the poem one week after it was assigned to us. Probably I forgot, or probably I just didn’t want to remember it, but two days before the submission deadline, I found out that the time was almost over. I panicked. A LOT!

Now I’m waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting for the inspiration to hit me. Something to inspire me to writing it. Some image. I thought of the photographs I had, I went through some images online even. Things got so desperate I ACTUALLY considered writing my poor poor poem on Aunty Chij Bachee’s helpless little black sock-clad foot. Lol! Imagine!

Well, the last day arrives. I still can’t think of anything. I’m depressed. So as desperate measures, I ask my brother to take me out for a drive.

It was a rainy night. Beautiful. Silent. Calm. I tried to look around, visualising everything as an image which I could write about. Lots of things were playing around in my mind; ideas chasing one another, but THE idea, THE image wasn’t hitting me.

I put on music to help me dream. Fantasize.

It helped. But not really. But I guess I’ll give it the credit of setting the mood.

The drive with my brother proved unsuccessful. My Bhabhi and I decided to go out again, so as to enjoy the awesome weather. We went to Defence, Phase 5. One really really pretty but isolated area. It has these huge flowing roads with palm trees bordering them and pale street lights showing the way at that time of the night. It was an awesome ride. To top it all off with the most delightful cherry, we had that really great but hateful song on repeat. “Maula mere…”

We were just loitering on the roads when I suddenly looked into the review mirror. It reflected this empty, wet, slippery road, with some random palm trees and a street light shining brightly on the empty, almost lifeless view. As I gazed at it, sitting in the car with my Bhabhi who was in the mood to burn much rubber, I thought the the view that I was racing away from, was just like my life, my past and my mistakes. Things I run away from. Intentionally, unintentionally.

Needless to say, I had found my image.

Believe or not, I wrote this poem (???) in the car on my cell phone as an SMS.

I’m cool, I know.   

Anyway, most of you have read it, but I would still like comments!

HAPPINESS ABOUNDS.

A moment dies when a moment’s born.Every moment carries the stench of hell fireand a breath of Elysium. 

The moments too slow to catch up to me,left far behind, longing, yearning, searching,

the moments trying to reach me,

the moments reaching out to touch me, embrace me

but I’m too hurried, too fast… 

Moments full of light, yet so dark

wet, like the tears shed on a glistening cheek,

yet, a part of the road to me

and a part which i shan’t wish to part from. 

Moments drained, like a half-empty glass,but yet so complete, so full.

The splatter of the rain

on the mirage of painful moments,

the shattering into million

 minor moments of anguish,

thus enough to bear

with pain and pleasure. 

Moments shrouded in darkness, in pain,yet cloaked with linings white,

Moments I can die for,

to let them live forever. 

Never again shall these moments live.Such short lives yet so meaningful.

How I wish to die like one moment

 and to be born again. 

As usual, it’s 3:18 am and I’m sitting here, thinking. I was just thinking back to the Hajj days. The days that were and should have been full of serenity, beauty, peace of soul, happiness and that feeling of holiness pervading your soul. You know? They were, Al-Hamdulillah.

But now I sit back and think, there were so many moments over there that I wasted. Only a 22-day trip and there I was, wasting so many moments thinking about worldly things. Or getting upset because of a number of factors that bothered me over there. Something related to myself and the people I was with. All stupid, now that I think about it.

Now that I’m back, I think how could I possibly do that? How could I waste all those moments that I spent in being upset, low, or pissed or just plain brooding that I should have in fact spent in happiness? Being happy Allah blessed me. What greater blessing than the fact  that I was THERE?!

I wish I had realized how blessed every moment is and how happy I should have been, instead of getting upset about trivial things. Now I call all the problems trivial. Then they seemed all-important and all-encompassing. Now I (if I could) curse myself for wasting all those precious moments that I could have spent in joy, in happiness, in the peace that comes with the love and blessings of Allah.

And while telling P all this, I suddenly realized that this is exactly how life is. We waste so much of our time mourning and whining and crying over things which seem all-encompassing and all important. And later in life, we regret wasting all those moments in misery over the all-encompassing matters(which seem trivial later) when we could have spent them in happiness by counting all the blessings of Allah.

I mean, who doesn’t wanna be happy?

But instead of wasting our time listing our miseries and problems, we can start “earning” happiness. Like my Dulhan Rani, Blogging Cousin Part 1 very adequately puts, “And happiness is something that is earned. We all have an absolutely logical explanation for staying unhappy all our lives, trust me.”

I was just cleaning my ‘Academic’ cupboards and found a handful of short pieces of writing that I had done during my Art of Storytelling course. Now, I’ve gone a bit weird in the head for some time and nostalgiosis strikes at the stupidest things ALL the time.

The writings were just tiny little stupid things we had to do in ten minutes. Short writing exercises, to be precise. There is this one that we had to do in exactly ten minutes; a short scene focused on a specific moment in time. You get what I mean? I titled it “Elysium.”

Then, there’s this one in which we had to write a dialogue. Again, just a few minutes we were given to write it. No title or anything, but I got the remarks,”Just lovely! A lovely piece of writing!” so I’m definitely saving that, too. 

Now, experience tells me (and all the people who know me!) that it would do me no good to just save all those papers in which I’ve written them, coz I’ll lose them faster than you blink your eye. Then, luck warns me that my computer will probably die a horrible death soon, so I just might lose all that I’ve written. That has happened many times before.

So…I’ve decided, whether you like it or not, I’m saving them all here on my blog! They are all stupid and useless, really. But I wrote them, and some stupid and useless memory is linked to ‘em, so I decided to save them anyway. If you wish to read and/or comment, feel free to do so! 

P.s. Anybody has some medicine for nostalgiosis? I mean, think about it, the semester JUST ended a few weeks ago and I’m already feeling nostalgic! Ugh!

This is a very old newspaper article. Its by Kay Jardine, The Herald, March 8 2002, CE. I found it on the site www.thetruereligion.org.

Even though its very old, I’m still posting it up here. The comments by the reverts are just simply amazing!

I feel so sad! I knew reverts had a better understanding of the Deen than most of born Muslims. I wish I could make the entire LGS and BNU read this. *sniff*

Western women are turning to Islam in rapidly increasing numbers. KAY JARDINE discovers why they are so keen to become Muslims.

 Bullying, depression, and insomnia made Kimberley McCrindle’s teenage years particularly difficult. Taunts from classmates about her weight and how she looked left the 19-year-old student feeling like she didn’t really fit in, and always searching for something that would make her feel happy, that would make her feel she belonged. McCrindle, from a family of atheists, did not encounter religion until she began religious studies at high school in Penicuik, when her new interest prompted her to start going to her local church on Sundays. But the peace and happiness McCrindle was looking for eluded her until she started college in Edinburgh, where she made friends with some Muslim people and discovered Islam.

“I was looking for peace,” she says. “I’d had a rough past. My teenage years weren’t great: I was bullied at school, people called me fat and ugly, and I was looking for something to make me happy. I tried to go to church once a week but I wouldn’t class myself a Christian; I was just interested. But it wasn’t for me, I didn’t feel in place there.

“When you walk into a mosque you feel really peaceful. Praying five times a day is really focused. It gives you a purpose in your life. The Koran is like a guide to help you: when you read it, it makes you feel better.”

McCrindle became a Muslim three years ago and is now known by her married Arabic name, Tasnim Salih. She is one of a rapidly increasing number of British women turning to Islam, thought to be the fastest growing religion in the world. Although there are no official figures on the subject, there is no doubt that the number of converts is on the rise and the majority are women, according to Nicole Bourque, a senior lecturer in social anthropology at Glasgow University and an expert in conversion to Islam in Britain.

“There are people converting all the time,” she says. “I would estimate that there are probably around 200 converts to Islam in Glasgow alone, but that’s just a rough estimate. The data is difficult to acquire.”

Other estimates put the Glasgow figure closer to 500. Mohammad Faroghul-Quadri, imam at the Khazra mosque in
Glasgow, says that whichever religion people choose to reach God, whether it’s Christianity or Islam or something else, the important thing is that they are getting peace of mind and heart, and proper guidance from God.^[1]

The appeal of Islam to liberated western women is difficult for many to understand, largely because of the widespread perception in the west that it treats women badly. A forthcoming documentary, Mum I’m a Muslim, addresses this very issue by talking to converts in Sheffield about their experiences.

At a preview in Glasgow, I asked a group of converts from Glasgow and Edinburgh what motivated them to change every aspect of their lives, including their names, to become Muslim. For 27-year-old Bahiya Malik, or Lucy Norris to her parents, it’s difficult to explain. Bahiya, who lives in Edinburgh, her twin sister, Victoria, and their brother, Matthew, grew up as practising Christians in a rural area in the West Midlands, where they attended Sunday school in the little church at the top of their road. As they got older, the three stopped going to church and seven years ago, at the age of 20, both Bahiya and her sister converted to Islam - six months after their brother.

“Maybe all through our teenage years we hadn’t been that happy. I can’t really say what it was. I don’t know if we felt there was something missing or that we didn’t fit in. We were a little bit shy and we weren’t really outgoing sort of people,” she says.

At the time, Bahiya was two years into a media and television course in Edinburgh but was feeling uninspired. After around six months of learning about Islam, Bahiya realised that living her life according to the rules of Islam was what would make her happy and, during an emotional visit to a mosque in
London, made her declaration of faith.

 “I think it’s something you feel in your heart, this pull,” she says. “You can’t really put it into words. It’s like your heart speaking, something you feel inside and you know it’s for you. Allah has chosen this for you, it’s out of your power.”

Women who turn to Islam are aware of the widespread western perception that they are oppressed and discriminated against, but insist that the depiction is a false image. For many it is a spiritual journey, which, far from repressing them, improves their social status and gives them new rights.

“You seem to be really looked after,” says Tasnim. “As a Muslim woman, Muslim men really respect you; they do everything for you. You’re highly thought of and protected.” Bahiya says: “I feel that because you cover yourself up you’re not seen as a sex symbol, and because people can’t judge you on your appearance, they have to judge you as a human being. That’s quite liberating.”

As an act of modesty, many Muslim women don’t wear make up outside the home and it is often a part of their old life that new female converts are happy to discard because of the liberating feeling that comes from knowing their appearance doesn’t matter. They resist being shown as they were before their conversion.

 Hafsa Hashmi, who lives in Glasgow, converted to Islam 24 years ago and felt life outside Islam was like having to “keep up with the Joneses”. Under Islam, however, she says: “Your aim is not for this life, your aim is for the afterlife. To some people that sounds pretty horrific: they can’t think about death, but in Islam belief in the afterlife is one of its main features, because you know if you’re doing the right thing you’ve got a better life to come. So why go for all the material things?”

Converting to Islam usually means a complete change of lifestyle for those who take the plunge, including a different diet, often a new Arabic name, and your time revolving around the five daily Islamic prayers. In the workplace, some people organise with their employer a room where they can have some peace and quiet to pray. Wherever they are in the world, all Muslims face in the direction of the Kab’aa, or the Holy House in
Mecca, Saudi Arabia, during prayer.

For female converts, the experience can also involve a quite dramatic change in appearance. Muslim law provides that women must dress modestly. The hijab, or the head scarf, is a particular focal point and can be a tricky area for new Muslim women to deal with. Dr Bourque suggests this is because it is such a visible symbol of the faith. Tasnim wore the hijab straight away, although she found wearing it in public scary at first because she felt people were looking at her. She was then forced to take it off when she was out because of some of the comments directed at her. “People would shout, ‘Go back home to your own country’. I had someone spit at me once when I was standing at the bus stop at college.”

Now, though, she wears it all the time and says: “People don’t say anything to me now and I feel more confident about wearing it.” Bahiya was happy wearing the hijab from the beginning, but her parents found it quite difficult. She says her sister, her brother, and herself were lucky because their parents were “quite good” about their conversion.

For others, however, families are not always so accepting, often because they know little about the religion and why their loved ones want to follow it. For Tasnim, telling her parents, who are atheist, was nerve-wracking. “They thought I was going through a phase at first but they realised when I started wearing the hijab that I was serious. They started getting angry when I began to talk about getting married. They weren’t too pleased that I’d met someone older than me, who was Muslim as well, and a different nationality.” While Tasnim and her mother are still close and enjoy a good relationship, they tend not to talk about her faith much. She and her father no longer speak.

For Hafsa, telling her parents 24 years ago was perhaps even more difficult because converting to Islam then was anything but a common occurrence. The reactions of her parents were totally opposite. “I think my mother felt that I was only becoming a Muslim because of who I was marrying, but that wasn’t the case because I had been introduced to Islam about four years previously although I didn’t convert until I got married. It took her practically her whole life to get over it. When we got married, my mum said, ‘If you’re happy, I’m happy’, but obviously she wasn’t. My dad said it and he meant it, that was the difference between them.”

Tasnim has been married to Sabir, who is Sudanese, for two years, and says she has never been happier. “I met my husband at college and it seemed like the right thing to do. I was teaching him English and he was talking to me about Islam, and we just fell in love,” she says. Bahiya’s husband, Sharafuddin, is also is also a convert, formerly known as Cameron. They have two children, aged two and four.

For Tasnim, Bahiya, and Hafsa, life revolves around the five daily prayers, they cannot eat certain foods, or drink alcohol. But the women say they miss nothing from the days before they converted to Islam. “Islam is enough for me,” says Bahiya. “You don’t need anything else once you’ve found it.” Becoming Muslim has provided Tasnim with the happiness and belonging she was looking for. “It’s a complete change in your attitude, behaviour, and the way you think,” she says. “I’m now more confident, happy and satisfied. I’ve achieved the fulfilment I was looking for.”

Source: http://www.theherald.co.uk/perspective/archive/8-3-19102-21-6-52.html

Notes

[1] This is a a false statement. The only religion acceptable to Allah - the one which leads to true guidance and peace, is Islam: “Whoever seeks a religion other than Islam, it will never be accepted from him and in the Hereafter he will be one of the losers” [Qur'an 3:85]

LOL! To tell you the truth, I started off the previous post with the intention of discussing my interest in Yusuf Islam. Lol. But it somehow went on to my interest in music and hence the entire post.

BASICALLY, what I wanted to tell, when I mentioned nasheeds was that Yusuf Islam and the story of his reversion and his nasheeds all really inspire me. But right before I left for Hajj, I found out that he had released a new album and has again fully associated himself with his previous identity as a singer and songwriter. I was very upset and actually prayed for him during Hajj. On the day of Arafat. Imagine. lol.

Now that I’m back, I have started researching on him. Especially on his explanation of why he has returned to music.

I’m a bit confused. His explanation makes sense. A lot of sense, sometimes. And it also coincides with the belief of my ideal, my brother.

I have to admit I’m terribly flustered. Lol.

Anyway, my research is still on and InshAllah I will satisfy myself with the best explanation soon.

Meanwhile, you people read this thing which I really liked on a site of Yusuf Islam.

Spiritual Journey: One Beginning. 

Everybody who comes into the world has to make sense of it for their own security and peace of mind. The Universe is a very big place, and it’s easy to get lost. I was no different. The Universe consists of billions of galaxies and each galaxy has an uncountable number of stars. This alone should be enough for us to ponder. Yet in addition to the vast expanding heavens, we observe the radiance of the earth and its kaleidoscope of creatures, colors and ecological patterns, in harmony with the motions of the sun and moon.

As we look more deeply at the scale of things above and below us - seas, mountains and the grandeur of the heavenly skies – we are forced to question our own existence. Because we have minds and the ability to question, certainly everybody has sufficient reason to ask themselves what it all means?
In recent decades physicists, in their pursuit of scientific truths, have unearthed a hidden order in nature; some have called it the Cosmic Code. Based on this order, scientists aim to uncover a grand unifying Theory of Everything. If ever this order is decoded, it is envisioned by some that all fields of knowledge could be linked together. In view of this astounding possibility, world renowned physicists have commented:“If we do discover a complete theory, it should in time be understandable in broad principle by everyone, not just a few scientists. Then we shall all, philosophers, scientists and just ordinary people, be able to take part in the discussion of why it is that we and the universe exist. If we find the answer to that, it would be the ultimate triumph of human reason- for then we would truly know the mind of God.” (Stephen W. Hawking, A Brief History of Time, 198

Many scientist have concluded that, according to the laws of nature and the unimaginable number of coincidences which must have united together connecting an infinite amount of molecules and unique elements to generate and form what we call ‘life’, everything seems to point one way. Their conclusion proves one thing: how impossible the existence of this immeasurable universe would be without certain constants. It is precisely because of the vital existence of these ‘constants’ or universal laws that everything in the cosmos balances and holds together.To summarize this in simple terms, without an overall singular design - supported by universal constants, there would be nothing to see, no one to see it - let alone sit around and talk about it.

The centrality of this original source is observed by the uniformity in the workings of these forces of nature all through the universe; the common origin of everything in the universe and the blueprint of life all across the species. Combine this with the generally accepted theory of the Big Bang, that mysterious moment in non-time when the universe started to exist, and we end up talking about singularity – or oneness. It now becomes necessary to analyse the implication of this information.

Do not the deniers see that the heavens and the earth were [once] one single unity, which We then ripped apart? And that We made out of water every living thing? {The Holy Qur’an, Al-Anbia (The Prophets) 21:30}

What such realities signify to people of faith is acceptance, in scientific terms, of the presence of Intelligent Design: in other words – GOD (Allah).

Although some rational minds may choose to reject the implications of a Divine Design, the evidence of life starting from a point of unity (oneness) is undeniable. Yet an alternative answer to life’s puzzle has never been agreed between them. Therefore it is left up to a person’s conscience to choose what he prefers to believe.

The conscience itself is probably the most vital characteristic of being human. We often refer to this aspect as ‘morality’ or ‘spirituality’. And it is the amazing spiritual nature of humanity, which makes us unique - and also makes us accountable. It is the inner discussion with the self, which distinguishes the human being from the animals.

Regardless of where a person’s conscience asks him or her to look - if guided - a seeker of truth will inevitably find a mysterious door leading to God. Even the greatest scientists repeatedly confirmed their ultimate wish to know the ‘Mind of God’. Their journey towards unravelling the mysteries of the universe is usually sparked by a common desire: to know what lies behind the unseen and makes it work. As the renowned scientist and father of the atomic age is reported to have said, “I want to know God’s thoughts; the rest are details.” (Albert Einstein)

If a person reaches the gate of knowledge to the unseen, he or she will discover the ultimate purpose of existence, and thus fulfil the need to worship by knowing Him and obeying the Divine Inspiration sent by Him. This is basically the meaning of Islam: surrender to the One sole Originator and Sustainer of the Universe (Allah).

I have always been very interested in hearing the stories of reverts of Islam. Partly, it’s to know how Allah gave hidayat to different people in different ways, and partly it’s to shake my own conscience. Normally, I think, reverts are so much better than us born Muslims, in terms of knowledge and practice of the Deen. (It may not be true, but that’s what I think.)

From quite some time, I have been trying to give up music for good. Al-Hamdulillah, I have, to a certain extent. As in, I, myself, have stopped listening to music but that’s a different thing that music is playing in my house 24/7.

I was once a music freak. I used to love listening to music, I used to sing myself, I actually used to once wish that I’d start singing professionally one day. (Lol!) Because I used to sing myself, I knew a bit of the technicalities of desi music. The sur and the taal, the beat and the pitches and God knows what else. I used to love music. Correction: I still love music. (No point in lying!)

The funny part is, I didn’t find it difficult at all to leave music. I mean, I think Allah had prepared me so well for it (or I have taken so much time in finally taking the decision!), that when the time came when I just stood my ground and told myself, “That’s it! No more music!” it wasn’t difficult for me at all, Al-Hamdulillah.

But Allah always opens new doors to relief and ease for me, Al-Hamdulillah. During the days when  I was trying to leave music, a little cousin of mine came to my rescue. (Incidently, she’s the one who introduced me to that Ahmed Bukhatir’s Last Breath.)

She gifted me with this cassette, “Bismillah,” a collection of nasheeds by ‘Yusuf Islam & Friends.’ That sparked my interest in this non-musical genre of music.

During the Hajj trip, there would be times when I would fall prey to stupid Satan’s temptations and would wanna hum something sweet and melodious.*rolling eyes* Those would be the times when I would turn to my cell phone and listen to Zain Bhikha’s “Give Thanks to Allah,” which my blessed Sister-in-law had transferred on my newly-gifted cell phone seconds before leaving Lahore.

I guess it was basically during the Hajj trip that I got addicted to nasheeds. Even though I only had a few(”Give Thanks to Allah” and a few Qari Waheed Zafar Qazmi’s), I would never get bored of them.

Ever since I have come back, there’s only one thing I do the entire day: listen to nasheeds. It’s fun and it’s relaxing. Best of all, it’s safe.

But sometimes when I listen to nasheeds, I realize they have pretty much the same effect other songs had on me. Umm…lets not say, the same effect, but at least a similar one.

Mostly, nasheeds inspire me and bring a smile on my face for no reason. My SIL has noticed that and thinks I’m crazy. Lol. But it’s true. I guess I find most of them so soothing, a smile automatically plays on my face.

But there are certain times when I would suddenly get all excited and hyper after listening to a nasheed. Pretty much the same way as I used to when I used to listen to some great song. Other times I would sit and wonder how beautiful the voice of the singer is. Lol. And then, finally there’s this single nasheed which really creates a storm inside me. I have no idea why. Like I would listen to it and something would be rising inside me. An upheaval. It upsets me too, and it sets me to thinking about things I, maybe, do not want to think.

I think it’s because of its tune.

But that’s how it used to be with songs as well. (???)

Sometimes I wonder where the difference lies.

But then I can see a great many differences, too. Nasheeds are all about remembering and glorifying Allah(Swt) and/or singing the praises and sending durood to Prophet Mohammad (Peace be upon him.) I guess that’s why I find them soothing and that’s why they bring a smile on my face.

So if nothing else, at least I’m not listening to Atif Aslam FOREVER wailing about his long-lost love’s eyelashes which he wants to connect to his eyelashes (?!!) or to some wahiyat dance song or to some  unbelievably, horribly depressing song which would seek out some, something in my entire being to get depressed about. Ugh!

In my moments of stupid pride, I think maybe I find nasheeds a bit difficult (because of how they, too, affect my emotions and moods) because I used to know about, and was conscious of the beats and the tones and the sur which I knew affected the moods and played with the feelings. Or so I think.