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A رمضان Like No Other (١٤٤١): Part 2
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Day [ ١١ ]
Do you ever feel like we've been eased into this blessed month? I remember how the days prior to Ramadhan were; mostly hot, windless and long. It's that time of the year again when we get monsoon showers, but we can't trust my pretty city. It's known for its crazy weather-whims. 🍃 There was a hailstorm in spring one time. And the year before last, we had summer for so long I couldn't believe it was still 42°C outside after months.
Living up to its name, it isn't cooperative with the definitions this year either; I wonder how much more... special 2020 would be for us. I remember the first 11 days of Ramadhan as the coolest summer days I've ever known though. We even had rain for the first few days, SubhanAllah. The clouds liked us too much after that, they stayed around for a bit. This one (👇🏻) was a particularly heavy one.
There was a post on Instagram (on someone's story) that said "I don't think we said Bismillah at the start of 2020", how ironic, because I do remember saying it. And to think, we are actually counting blessings like we never did before, that the life we took for granted was packed with favours from our Lord, SubhanAllah. Maybe this is one of the effects of saying Bismillah.
Then we have the thirteenth suhoor moon outside my window (👇🏻). It's so bright, the moonlight was beautiful enough to make people go loony, telling us we're already past one-third of the way through this month. 😭💔
What's it like where you live?
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Day [ ١٢ ]
There are two sides to the coin of privilege; gratitude and arrogance. You know which one's superior, gratitude has always been rewarded in Islam. Arrogance is condemned. But even after knowing all of it, there are some who confuse the two. It's like saying, "If it's head, I win. If it's tail, you lose."
This is based on an incident which occured today; I'm going to keep it short and anonymous lest it be counted as backbiting. May Allah protect us from that and all other evils. There's a sister here on Wattpad, and she got a comment on her book asking for the translation of a sentence because it was written in a different language. The answer was given, and the writer also remarked how the person only commented when there was something she didn't understand.
Okay, I know. I know readers have that right; to understand what is being said. But this classifies as abusing privileges, I can make it sound even more criminal, but it probably doesn't look like that much of a big deal. The writer was given a reply that she was reading in the first place because she liked it, she thought voting was enough to convey that.
If you're a silent reader, it is. But if you're interacting with the author one-on-one like in this case, you have an obligation to fulfil. You can tell me it's not arrogance, and it might most definitely not be, because I don't know everyone's intentions, it might just be because of lack of time. I don't know. And that's okay. I can stand with you for that. But when you've got the time to go around commenting on one or two things, wouldn't you call it good manners if the reader at least said "good chapter"?
It may look like we're fishing for compliments. But we're not, I promise. We know that rewards are only from Allah. But hanging your talents out for the world to see needs courage, we could use some of that appreciation as fuel. It's mutual understanding between a writer and a reader. We cherish every vote and comment we get, you're building a path of success for that writer.
It's voluntary though, I understand that, and intentions weigh heavily too. But I also know that good manners are voluntary. Alhamdulillah, I am fine with whatever people wish to do. May Allah bless them for reading, accordingly, and allow them to benefit from it. This was written because I support the sister who said people need to be more appreciative and grateful for the things they get. Especially when it's for free.
On a different (and lighter) note, constructive criticism should be given subtly, like how I would give for the guy who wrote this book which I read four years ago...
Book: "Revolution 2020" by Chetan Bhagat
Rating: 1 / 5 (I'm being really generous)
Review: Not going to give a full review because I don't really want to think about it (this should give you an idea)... The cover is good though, it made me pick the book up. But... I've read other books written by this author, and to say that they have a retrogressive evolution on my grammar skills is an understatement. The language is so simple I felt like somebody ruined a delicious recipe of noodles by forgetting to add salt to it. It was far too bland, as it was devoid of the richness that comes with witty dialogues and supraoptimal puns. It has the most ethical butchering of English ever, the sentences morph to allow an amateur reader feel comfortable. In other words, it's structured more for marketing than for actual literature. I can give him credit for that. Basically, I wouldn't recommend it; even if you're locked in a room with it for six months. #SaveYourLanguageSkills
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Day [ ١٣ ]
To the girl who wears short dresses, to the sister who took off her hijab, to the woman who is a single parent, to the boys who laughed at truth, to the guy who looked down on his own brother, to the man who wondered if the beard was worth it, I understand you. We're all cloudy souls wrapped in sunny smiles, busy minds battling stereotypes, lost soldiers seeking a path that isn't dulled by the city lights. We're all made from the same soil.
But I wish you hadn't made it look so easy. I wish you had declared that it was your choice for you, not that your Lord didn't command it. Because to the woman who strives to keep her modesty, to the girl who was called an extremist, to the sister who loves her hijab, to the guy who fights all odds to keep his beard, to the men who stood against lies for the truth, to the person whose people rejected him, to the person who was the only one in his house to stand up in Fajr... You have belittled their struggles.
But this Ramadhan, may Allah forgive you and reward you accordingly. May He guide you. I still stand with you because your intentions are not known to me. But I wish you knew that you're stronger than their ideologies of perfection. When the winds blew in the opposite direction, I wish you knew your roots are firm enough to withstand the storms. I wish your resolve could be better than disobeying your Lord. Do not fear yet, He is Al-Adl, the Utterly Just.
In this mad search for peace, carrying a tired heart looking for the love it's capable of giving, know that you are not judged. Only ached for. Because somewhere along the way, while fighting for our rights in this world, we forgot to change ourselves.
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Day [ ١٤ ]
Yesterday, I wrote that because there was a pattern I noticed amongst my friends (and acquaintances) that irked me. Influence might be the word to correctly describe it. Stepping out of an Islamic country should have nothing to do with not wearing hijab / being modest. Yet there are so many who camouflage themselves into their surroundings for the approval of people.
It's not even about finding loopholes in religion, it's about being a people-pleaser. Truthfully, it matters. It matters a lot how people think of you, how they talk about you, how vigorously you're being judged between others... It all matters. But the beautiful thing about adopting Islamic values is that when people question, you will have an answer. When you have the answer, you have them respecting your decisions. It's automatic.
You will never feel like you have to change, because you've given them your viewpoint and don't owe anything to anybody. And when a religion like Islam is involved, it even makes people feel guilty for asking. But so many just don't bother, there's a dangerous way of thinking going around nowadays; "I'll change when I become older." -- What is the guarantee of tomorrow that we plan the sins around our lives?
Another reason could be the spread of hate against us. When you try to reason with how people battle that, they say things like, "Don't tell me they have it worse, it doesn't lessen my troubles." -- it kind of annoyed me a bit. The statement is meant for you to look for your blessings and overcome the anxiety, so that you can battle it too. Of course it doesn't lessen your troubles, but it makes you a more informed person and widens your gaze from focusing on your problems only. It tells you we're all grounded by the same roots to the same tree.
But nope.
"Only Allah can judge."
While that is true, using it in this context is like painting excuses for your nafs. May Allah filter out our intentions and keep them pure, may He bless us with the ability to follow His Rules. May He guide us all. 😓❤️
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Day [ ١٥ ]
This is an excerpt (👇🏻) from Islamic Beliefs and Practices by Yasmin Malik.
(...Halimah. ❤️)
This was the culture in Olden Arabia, and what a beautiful decision it was! I recently came across an article that was quoting NAK, they said, "People have this weird notion that culture is a bad thing. That's absolutely wrong, culture is just a collection of old habits of a particular tribe. It becomes bad when some of those practises go against humanity, and Islam is there to remove those faults. Islam is not here to eradicate culture." And then they talked about how the Prophet Muhammad (ﷺ) wore the turban, but so did Abu Lahab, it was culture and it was fine...
That went off-topic. Oops. 🙊
Anyway, my point is, if cities then were considered so dangerous for kids to be brought up in, what about now? To them, the places we live in would sound like nothing but demographic death traps. Forget pollution and hygiene, we associate with people who have brains that could put garbage dumps to shame. Astaghfirullah.
Would you send your child outside the city like that with a random family?
I don't know, I most probably wouldn't. One, I think I would be too attached. Two, we can't trust people that much these days (remember how Yusuf alayhi salam was sold?). Three, I remember this incident from a country I used to live in... It was Maghrib time one Ramadhan, and this woman who had five children walked into the masjid with her maid. It was a little saddening to see how the children preferred playing / talking / being with the maid than with their own mother. I guess that's how the majority there are, but it sounds heartbreaking to me.
One huge blessing is that you would have more than one mother, and extra milk siblings, but... Even if I had the choice, I'd prefer not to follow this part of the Arabic culture.
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Day [ ١٦ ]
If there's one thing that keeps me alive
It's the fact that Allah knows everything
From the facts and fiction in my archive
To the thoughts that change winter to spring
From how His name twinkles in my heart
To how daydreams cease into Du'as
Including how the world seems to thwart
Thinking I would let norms trespass
Sevgilim, unrush, and let your worries rest
For we all do what is meant to be done
Convince your heart with zeal and zest
For long before we knew, our stories were spun
Is it that hard to believe He would suffice?
Would you never give your fears a try?
Would it not be worth the entire paradise?
Don't let pessimism be your ally
He alone remains my strength to withstand fights
For I most certainly can't do this alone
How else would I climb all heights?
For I apparently long to live in the red zone
#IslamicPoetry❤
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Day [ ١٧ ]
Guess who decided it's a bright sunny day to announce we've got exams in 6 days? Right, my college. 😭 The entire inbox is filled to the brim with things like "#WhenTeachersAreJobless #Literally #LockdownPerks". Lol.
#OnlineCadavericDissection? 😐
#BloodSerumAnalysisWebsite? 💉
#HowToKillViralInfectionsDotCom 🧫
#PhysiologyOfFasting 😆
To be honest, I thought I was an introvert. But I can't wait to go back to college. I miss that place, the huge corridors, the chandelier in the entrance, the red and beige classrooms, the lunch time trips to the library, I even miss the hospital (Idk how mental that sounds to you, lol). I suppose we all fluctuate between being an introvert and an extrovert. Like someone said, "Everyone becomes patriotic when they step out of their country."
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Day [ ١٨ ]
At my school, it was compulsory to have at least two extracurricular activities on your timetable. Key Stage 3 (7th, 8th & 9th Standard) is the golden time when you get to exercise your talents. Being in netball and badminton groups didn't apparently suffice, because "school teams aren't extracurricular activities" 😒. #ItsYourBirthright #GameDayMotivation 😭 And thus I had to choose Arabic Knitting and Word Games (scramble and things like that).
So 4 / 5 days of the week (yes, our weekend was 2 days long; Friday and Saturday), I was supposed to stay at school after school hours. Plus, I really liked the library and my house was nearby so I ended up staying there for almost all days of the week. There's a different ambience after school hours, especially from the windows of the library. 😍 You could even say it was magical, almost like someone was giving us a reward for doing the extracurricular activities.
The greater impact of that was we were shown how handing responsibilities came with sacrifices. You might ask me, isn't that inevitably learnt? It's not. I have come across countless people "adulting" through life with as much knowledge about handling responsibilities as The Princess' Pea. It's a skill you develop through volunteering. Out of all the things school has taught me, this was probably one of the significant gems.
Even in Islam, there is great reward for extracurricular activities. If you wonder why, perhaps you'd notice the same objective behind it. Because after all, removing a stone / thorn from somebody's path will give you no benefit except in good deeds and a sense of responsibility. You sacrifice your time for someone else; this is teaching us that we uphold a community on the basis of extracurricular activities.
How many times have you eased somebody's living? Visited the sick? Opted to help out at the masjid? Wanted to stay behind to finish calculating Zakah? Smiled at a stranger? Let someone know you're there for them? Thanked people for how nice they were? Gifted someone a token of appreciation? This kind of charity works both ways, SubhanAllah. ✨
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Day [ ١٩ ]
My Dad noticed a queer thing about couples the other day, a thing I was noticing too. For a very long time, I thought it was all in my head.
Don't old couples look like each other?
Whenever I was attending a wedding, I'd see so many men and women (old ones lol), who were couples and who looked like they were related. It was so crazy, they looked almost like siblings! Now that I think about it, Roald Dahl (a children's book author) illustrated it in one of his books. He said something along the lines of... (rephrased) "A person appears like the thoughts that run through his head. If he is beautiful by birth, but has nasty thoughts doing tawaf in his head, he'd appear nasty. But those with optimism flowing through appear like gems no matter where they stand in societal beauty standards."
Isn't that's why we're told how truly beneficial good companionship is? The Prophet Muhammad (ﷺ) said; "A good friend and a bad friend are like a perfume-seller and a blacksmith: The perfume-seller might give you some perfume as a gift, or you might buy some from him, or at least you might smell its fragrance. As for the blacksmith, he might singe your clothes, and at the very least you will breathe in the fumes of the furnace." [Bukhari, Muslim]
What is a spouse, if not your best friend? Encouraging good like igniting fireworks that fill your sky with light? There's a weird sort of magical energy between them, like they're allowing goodness from both ends to merge. Maybe this translates years down the line into a love so strong that they start looking like each other. SubhanAllah. My grandparents are an example, Ma Shaa Allah. ❤️
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Day [ ٢٠]
A question I've always wanted to ask doctors and nurses was "How many dead people have you seen?" I never got round to it, even to this day. When I ask this question to myself, I'm surprised at the answer because I never thought I'd make it this far. For me, it's seventeen in total. This includes freshly dead, dead almost a year ago, mummified, men, women, babies (stillborn and teratogenic)... and countless hands, feet, heads and bones.
We walk right past them to reach some of our classes, immersed in chatter about worldly things. I remember the first time we went to the mortuary at the hospital. They were waiting for the police to arrive because the body was unidentified and they couldn't do an autopsy yet. There were two; put in freezers as big as an entire kitchen.
I remember how every one of us just stood there with fear squeezing our hearts, blood rushing to our heads. No one was talking, all we could do was stare into the eyes of the dead... Knowing that they had life in their being just a few hours ago. They were somebody's son, husband and father. But now they were nothing, perhaps a part of the soul from which they were created, being recycled over and over.
Have you ever looked at yourself and wondered how many people you were made of? We get food from the things around us, which grow from the soil. And when we die, we are dispersed across lands like sand being sifted in a storm. How many plants and animals were you a part of? Isn't that really scary? Knowing that everything around us, the wood, the metal, the food, the glass... it's all really just people whom we've recycled over the years, linked by different bonds.
And some of us have the audacity to claim we belong to ourselves. SubhanAllah.
With the little ten days of Ramadhan approaching fast, I can't help but think what a blessing it is that we're alive. May He allow us to reach great heights through His Mercy and Forgiveness. May He make good use of us for His sake. May He accept our Du'as. It's getting hotter nowadays though, isn't it? Say; Allahumma ajirni min an-naar. 🔥❤️💧
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-Jasmin A.