Mirrored 

God created everything in pairs. There has been a lot said on this subject, and I really have no right to add anything to this, given my lack of experience, knowledge and judgment. But the fact remains: I have been extremely intrigued and fascinated by this. Everything was made in pairs: to everything there is a mirror. The sky and the ocean, Rumi and Shams, the sun and the moon, even the adhaan. Imagine there is a peace and tranquil that has descended upon the Earth. The people are deep in slumber, the world is a new place. Not everything is allowed to be fully conscious during this period. Even the birds have been shushed lest they should distract what the true hearts try to seek in those wee hours. God has descended upon the lowest heaven. Never was there anything more touching than seeing a true believer turn to his true Master, even though the believer had been labelled as a kaafir by the people of the world, even though the believer had been labelled as a kaafir by his self. In such a delicate time, the silence is broken by a deep melodious voice:

Allah-o-Akbar Allah-o-Akbar 

The believer, no matter how cracked his voice may be, no matter how ugly it may sound to others, silently mutters: 

Allah-o-Akbar Allah-o-Akbar 

The two voices, so entirely different, received in such different ways, loved by different people, and yet, the words are essentially the same. The words of the Muezzin mirrored by the believer.

What is interesting to see here is that this concept does not remain only in His material creations, but extends throughoutho the universe. Even in the Qur’an. I had been listening to a video on a surah of the Qur’an, and the speaker had actually used the word “mirror”. The beginning of the surah was mirrored by the end. It was so beautiful, the works of Allah.

_____

I know, dear reader, I know. As much as I have disappointed you, believe me I have disappointed myself even more with my words. Perhaps this piece was written by my heart (but perhaps it was not) and my heart has a limited vocabulary as compared to my mind. If I could have written this piece in the order of which I thought it out, it would have had some organisation. But the thoughts came too quick, and as I started writing it out, they refused to stop. What I wanted to write about in the beginning, what my real inspiration was, somehow got lost during the process. Hence there is an abrupt change of subject. My initial inspiration was somewhat linked to my final inspiration, and the result is what you see. I’m still going to publish this piece. I have had too many drafts waiting but never making their way out. Perhaps the next time we see each other, I shall have something of substance to tell you. Believe me this old mind has all sorts of stories and thoughts waiting to be liberated. But they are often lost as soon as I try to confine them in the form of words. I realise that I have been blabbing for quite some time now… if you have read it all, thankyou. I get the feeling not a lot read my posts anymore. But oh well. 

Until next time,

Rab Rakhan!

Youm e Nijaat

I believe there was a day in the history of the subcontinent which the Muslims had named Deliverance Day (Youm-e-nijaat).

Anyways, todaywas that. For me.

You can ignore this one.

Right. So I miss writing. Something other than ratta-fied words on an exam paper. Honestly I get why three students committed suicide last year for these exams. And many more before that. The stress is just so ridiculous! Exams are ruining my Ramadhan. I only get one month of motivation and half of that has been ruined. Honestly, I did not expect this from an Islamic Republic! And on top of that the electricity goes in the middle of the exam. So people, do your exam in this neglected Government college without even a FAN in 47 degrees Celsius. And please, do not pass out or get a heat stroke. And keep the roza because you need to please Allah to get good grades! Why am I even ranting? I don’t know. Anyways people pray. Please, to all the people not reading this, pray for me.

So I thought I’d do a proper goodbye. I’m supposed to be studying rn. I feel a burst of energy and well… I don’t know how I ended up here. Hopefully I will produce a post which has some quality writing. Let me find some motivation *looks around and sees open biology book haunting her in the night*

Rab Rakhan. (Don’t you just love the sound of that word?

My Anniversary

I cannot believe in all my absences nobody missed me. Oh well. All I hope is that Tam doesn’t leave blogging.

Have my exams in case you’re (not) wondering. Pray for me people.

Yes I shall be disappearing again now. See all of you a week and a half later. Never mind that.

Wanted to do a proper cheesy post for my anniversary but circumstances. This has been a real hard Ramadhan.

Oh and by the way Happy Ramadhan. Remember me in your prayers.

No I did not read or like any of your posts. InShaAllah will see you people soon some other day.

It might make you people laugh but when I was a child all I wanted to be was an amazing author who everybody would love. Sighs. YES I can be in self pity.

Pray for my exams tho.

And happy anniversary to me… might have something special for suhoor.

Or I might just leave blogging.

The Blue Sky Tag!

Ok, so two of the most amazing bloggers tagged me for this. One was Saffiyah, who is a revert MashAllah and is an extremely talented writer. The other is Accidentally Inked who is also an amazing writer and photographer. Please do check out their blogs😊

 So these are the questions from Saffiyah

1. Do you prefer hot or cold weather?

I like the cold weather but I don’t like cold feet. Which is basically what I have the entire winter ( which is usually two weeks😂). But the HOT weather… it’s just so hot. 

 2. What are you most afraid of?

Well. I haven’t really told anyone this. I have lots of fears including walking into a store, dogs, moths, etc. These days, it’s not doing well in my exams. Which start in thirteen days. No pressure though, only my ENTIRE future depends on this… no pressure…

 3. What is your favourite animal?

It would have to be a zebra. I remember when I was small we went to a zoo and the zebra fascinated me the most. Once I couldn’t decide wethar to have an imaginary white horse or a black one, so I had a zebra instead. (I must have been five or six)

 4. What is your favourite smell?

Well, there’s this smell but I don’t know where it comes from. All I know is that it comes at night and it’s from a plant. But it’s so fresh and summery! In the winters, nothing beats the fog….

 5. Are you an early bird or a night owl?

I don’t know really. It changes, time to time.

 6. How many people have seen you cry?

Enough to not want to see more.

 7. When was the last time you laughed until it hurt and what made you laugh?

It must have been a long time. I remember it was my mother and me having a laugh at something.

 8. What book or film made you cry the most?

Well, the theory of everything. It was a great movie. But O don’t usually cry and I guess it’s because I saw this when I was really tired. But it was still a great film.

 9. What is your favourite time of day?

In the morning, when it isn’t hot and the sun is just coming out and the air is still fresh.

 10. If you could have any career or job you wanted, what would it be?

I don’t know. Either I would be in the airforce, or I would be a writer, I guess.

 11. If you were in a room with Donald Trump what would you say to him?

Can I borrow your plane?
And now, for Accidentally Inked’s…

1-What is one small thing that can make you smile?

When someone makes me green tea the way I like it.

2-What was the name of the last book that you read? How was it?

Well, it’s called “Physics 11” and it’s pretty torturesome. I actually memorised it yesterday. The process still continues.

3-Alot of people NEED coffee or tea to begin their day. Don’t you think that it is right if someone says that they should be more dependent? 😛

4-If you were to learn a new language which one would it be?

Pashtu. Or balochi.

5-Are you an early bird or a night owl?

I adjust according to need.

6-What do you like most about blogging?

That I can write whatever and nobody even reads. And everybody’s really nice, for some reason.

7-What’s your best childhood memory?

This is hard.

7-If you hear the word beautiful what comes to your mind?

A waterfall in Gilgit-Baltistan named Madupur Waterfalls.

8-If you think of the word terrible what comes first in your head?


A worn-down, deserted, destructed building with bent steel supports and a collapsed wall.

9-Are you thinking I am out of questions now? 😛

I sure am😂😂

10-Would you rather go the moon or under the ocean? Explain why!

Under the ocean. Because… 

11-What country are you from?

A beautiful country that is often portrayed very negatively. A cousin of mine who lives in the UK was actually shocked I had never witnessed any acts of terrorism🙄
Since I had to answer so many questions, so I get to change the rules. Or maybe I’m just being lazy. So I’m not nominating anyone. Thank you once again for nominating me. It felt nice. 

The Struggle 

A woman gives birth to a child. The child is a son. A son who grows up to have strength, power and dominance in a male dominant society.

The son grows up into a man. But, nevertheless, remains a son. Only he forgets that. And then he becomes.

A son who dishonours the womb that bore him.

I wish I could write this sentence on every book, every blog, every wall. A son who dishonours the womb that bore him.

The woman goes through so much. So much physical pain, long before she ever thought of marriage. So much physical pain, all her life. The son does not realise this, obviously. The son is stupid. So much emotional pain, all her life. Her society makes fun of her emotional pain which is due to her physical pain. The society she lives in, has more women than men. Nevertheless, her emotional stability (or instability, as some would argue) instead of being understood, is looked down upon as a weakness. The weakness which is, eventually, what shapes great men.

But. She lives in agony. Pain, emotional and physical, as already established. Mentally drained. Frustrated to the core. Idiotic sons everywhere. Men who forget they are eventually sons. She sacrifices so much. All her life, not even in just one phase. She lets go of so much. She is patient. A patience that has been enforced upon her. Then, she surpresses her ego. She tries to find shelter, support and security from the same species she needs to secure herself from.

And then the son is born. The son who grows up to be a son. And also a father, sometime in the future. But that is what he remains: a son. And he forgets. Perhaps, one day, when he will be held accountable, he might remember. But until then, he forgets.

A human being is so insignificant. A fusion of gametes. Disgusting. But they forget this, and do some things that are not meant to be done. 

A girl lies in bed, silent tears flowing from shut eyes. Yearning for the strength of a man to be endowed upon her, to cope with the pain she thinks might claim her life. It does not, she lives. Only to experience similar pain, pains that could not be borne by men.

A man has strength. More than a woman, he thinks proudly. A strength that has no equal, he thinks. And so he uses it. Unjustly, to cause pain. Never thinking that the pain he inflicts, whether it is physical or emotional, could come back and take away his strength. Nature is symmetrical, afterall. But it seldom happens, and he gets away with it more times than is fair.

Men are disgusting to an extent which cannot be explained. Gone are the days when there were men of valour, morale. Chivalric men who could be trusted. And now, times have changed. This is a new era. I wish, though, I just wish that they would think at least for a moment that they, too, were born from a womb they disgrace.