Ecstatic.

Okay, I know I said I will not post till after exams, but this is a special case! Just a quick news - and no more, inshaAllah! A few days ago, I emailed a few of my favourite nasheed artists with some lyrics. One of the emails bounced back and I have not heard any replies from Dawud Wharnsby's facebook message. Of course, these people are very busy and I do not expect a quick reply!


But, to my surprise, when I checked my email this morning, a reply to 'lyrics for Zain Bikha' was sitting there. My heart jumped as far and as fast as it could. 


This was my email:


Assalamu Alaikum Zain Bikha,

The first time I have heard your songs was when I came to Australia at the age of 11. I loved your songs for a while, for 2-3 years. Then, I moved away from Allah (swt) and stopped a lot of my previous practises, for example, listening to nasheeds. Recently, I have, alhamdulillah, returned to Him again and one of my friends gave me the link to First You Need the Love. I must say, there have been a tremendous improvement and I started to love your songs again! I often listen to First You Need the Love, Who I am, I Remember Your Smile and Mum and Dad. Now, at 19, along with Dawud Wharnsby Ali and Talib Al Habib, you are again one of my favourite nasheed singers.

I have recently started to write songs myself. Since I am a female, there is no way that I can publish any songs. I was wondering if you take lyrics and sing them? I would love to get a response from you! Here is my most recent lyrics. I sincerely hope and pray that Allah (swt) accepts your dawah, and that I can help you to do so! I know you are a very busy person, but I would really appreciate a feedback on these lyrics! :)

Verse 1:

A thousand words clog my head, as a
Million thoughts suffocate my mind;
I cannot sleep, I cannot wake up,
I know its too late to look behind.

Pre-chorus:

I wonder, I'm fearful,
About what the future holds here,
I don't know if I am enough
To bear it on my shoulders.

Chorus:

Oh Lord, give me strength,
Allah, make me brave,
Let me remember
You're there to save me.

Let me gather up these negative thoughts,
Light a fire and burn;
Oh God, give me faith.

Let me return.

Verse 2:

I try to clear those letters up, I,
I pick them up to throw away,
They cling to me like frustration, and
Like a broken record, they play

Pre-chorus 2:

They stay, won't let go,
I utter hateful nonsense still;
Then I realise the only way
Those words would leave would be
If I killed, I murdered them
With words.

I raise my hands.

Chorus.

JazakAllahu Khairan! May Allah increase your rewards by manifold!

And this was the reply that I got:

In the name of God, The Beneficent, The Merciful

As-Salaam-u-Alaikum

Thank you so much for your e-mail and wonderful words of encouragement. We, at Zain Bhikha Studios truly appreciate your support and the sole purpose of all our productions is to inspire the hearts towards Allah / God.

The lyrics you have sent through are very good Masha-Allah and we will definitely keep this in mind for future productions.

As a gift to you, we would like to send you a complementary set of all Zain Bhikha's CDs. Can you please provide me with a physical address to send this to you?

Please remember us in your prayers and keep in touch. May Allah grant you happiness and peace, always.

 Please stay in touch on our official website www.zainbhikha.comand do not forget to become a fan on www.facebook.com/zainbhikhaofficial

You can also purchase all Zain Bhikha’s songs from www.cdbaby.comor http://www.cdbaby.com/Artist/ZainBhikha

Sincerely,

--

Now, of course, I realised it probably wasn't written by Zain himself, but hey! Its a wonderful email! Maybe, after all, there is a chance that something will be done with my work? Maybe my dreams will come true!

Just had to put it out there.

Travelling Thoughts

When I was little, I absolutely hated red. My favourite colour was baby blue and baby pink. At elevenish, purple became my favourite. Then somewhere along the way, black, green and brown made their way into my heart. But very recently, I started to love red, with a passion. It started with red glass bangles, then red jewellery, now, I have a thing for red clothes too! I am planning (ie: dreaming, no realistic steps taken yet) red-ise my room sometime - with red translucent curtains, red candles, red photo frames and red cushions. Yes, sometime soon... when my lazy self can be bothered and has enough money to do so.

This realisation dawned upon me yet again, yesterday, at the sari party. It was held in my house, even though, it was not technically 'my' party. I had my eyes on one my mum's saris that I wanted to wear for a very long time, even though its old, faded and frayed around the edges. Its black, white and red, has a very old design, and is of a very comfortable material. Being very disorganised, it wasn't until last week that I realised that I don't have a black blouse to wear with it and its far too late to borrow one and none of my black tops are suitable. So I went hunting in my mum's cupboard and I am glad I did so! I found a beautiful red and white sari, another very old one (but very well taken care of). In about ten minutes, my excessive enthusiasm drove me to match all the bits and pieces and have a trial run. White alone looks horrible on me, but I realised that white and another colour changes things completely! Next time I buy a sari, it shall be white-and-something-else.

My mother's beautiful sari; the bangles I wore. See why I love red?

We had so much fun! All pinned up, walking around, getting our make-up done by those who can (while the rest of us became amazed at the wonders of those chemicals; even though I am a girl, I cannot apply make-up like it should be applied. Let's just say, I like it natural?), stuffing ourselves with delicious food brought by everyone, playing silly games, taking more than a thousand photos (literally). We are so used to wearing glamorous saris, every time there is an occasion to wear one, because these occasions are very occasional! But yesterday was a chance to bring out the beauty in simpleness. I realised yet again how beautiful my friends are. We usually don't see each other in makeup, jewellery or hair. In times like this, we learn to appreciate our hijab a little more. Our beauty is so special, only a very few have the right to see it. 

I think, every girl with respect for their bodies has some form of expression of modesty through their clothing - a line that they never cross. Regardless of whether you refuse to pull your skirt higher than mid-thighs, or refuse to show any part of your body except for your face, or whether this line is much further or much closer, the point is - there is a line. For most people, their culture dictates this line. In some parts of the world, revealed knees are taboo, while revealed cleavages are normal in some other parts. When you break out of this cultural boundary for one reason or another, say, by growing up in a family where culture is not greatly valued, or rebelling against parents who are tightly bound by blind following of absurdities, there is a chance that your line will disappear. There is a chance that you will go to any extreme because the concept of having a line would not make sense to you. That is when you lose respect for your body.

Since we live in a global village, it is very normal that all of our cultures are slowly becoming one, especially in the western world. As a result, the lines that were drawn by cultures are slowly becoming blurred, creating confusion about what the 'norm' is. Some people call it 'freedom' - this blurring of lines. The attitude that says 'you can wear whatever you want, which can be nothing if you like'. The attitude that does not recognise clothes as an essential means of respecting one's body.

Once the line is completely gone, some begin to miss it. They want to draw a different line. It started with France (lets ignore Turkey for a while). I remember the long campaigns I took part in around 2004, trying to stop the hijab ban. The ban went ahead anyway. Now it is being debated in many other European countries, including Italy, which currently has 1.2 million Muslims. (I don't know why some people still believe that these countries are doing it for 'security reasons'. There are MANY other security measures that these nations can take, without touching religions. Ever heard of female security guards?) The French spokesman on Insight's debate on the burqa clearly said that this ban goes against French values. He initiated the bill to ban the burqa. People like him decide that they are the ones who can say what defines a nation, a culture, a person. The funny thing is, there are many nude beaches in the same country. So, let me get this straight. Some people in the world believe that there is nothing wrong with failing to recognise that their bodies should be respected, yet, something wrong with those who don't fail to do so.

And they call themselves intelligent human beings!

And then there are some of us who could not care less. We are so selfish! Unless something directly affects us, unless a disaster strikes, we think its okay to live our sheltered lives and forget about the rest of the world. Sometimes, we think its okay to destroy our own lives - that is how selfish we are. Snap out of it!  

N was here yesterday. She is in her third year of university, and has been through quite a lot of what I am seeing myself and my friends go through right now. She lived a perfectly happy life in school, with her close friends, who never crossed their boundaries, living their sheltered lives. Then they got to university, turned eighteen, discovered alcohol and men. N was never drawn into the traps of alcohol, but she did try to fit in in other ways. She eventually figured out that its not worth it, that the 'image' does not matter. M once told me that she wanted to spend her 18th completely drunk. Yet, even at the young age when she told me (I think we were 14? 15?), I remember asking her if she really wants to spend such a special day of her life in such a horrible state, from which she won't remember anything later, and might regret a lot?  Her 18th passed this year, I don't know what she did. 

M, N, D, S, D, A, T - They were such good friends of mine! I remember the surprise birthday party they threw me when I turned 14. M took me around the school in order to steal some time, they took me to the hockey field when I was almost sure that 'something fishy' is a 'surprise' party. M was the most responsible person in our group. Coming from a fairly religious, close-knit catholic family, she became the 'mother' of our little group. I remember her telling me that she is not allowed to get a boyfriend before university. She still doesn't have one (I'm yet to prepare myself for that day when she will) but she has been out partying a lot. She still has not completely lost her head, but I admit, I am a little scared for her. I feel like I am losing her as she loses herself. (Now I know how parents feel when their babies grow up!)

I have not yet seen T (except for once, from very far away) since 2006. A have changed for the better - into a mature, beautiful young lady. D and N - As expected, I guess. The other D - has lost her vehement passion for science and is now earning a lot of dollars. 

S - We've grown apart and then became closer. I know how much you have in you and I don't want to lose you to this irresponsible world. In ten years, I hope to visit you in America, see you in your dream job, with the love of your life next to you (if you've found him, otherwise, don't worry about it :P). What everyone else thinks is 'fun' does not have to be 'fun'. I hope you figure that out someday, soon, just like N. :)

I thought I was talking about colours in the beginning! How on earth did I end up on such a depressing topic?

Anyhoo - I must nerd it out until the 11th of November. Please tell me to go and study if you see me online from now till then! I shall leave you with a cow's lens. 

---

PS: I do not believe in cultural boundaries either. I believe in religious boundaries, because, if you believe in God, you believe His way to be the truth. And once you believe that something is the truth, if you are an honest person, you will follow it. But 'cultural boundaries' can vary and are not based upon a single 'truth'. 

Hello word, hope you're listening

"Forgive me if I'm young,

Or speaking out of turn..."

Something in my mind, heard a few days ago in a show.

The psychologists among my readers (or my mother, or sister) might be alarmed at the following poetry. Therefore, I feel obliged to explain this creation.

1. Smruthi recently wrote a dark poem while listening to a dark song.

2. I have been listening to 'Give me a sign' by Breaking Benjamin (the acapella version is quite sad).

3. I have plenty of things to do.

4. I de-stress by letting my emotions run wild on insignificant topics. The following are a few examples:

http://lamzblog.blogspot.com/2010/09/fragmentary-blues.html - The poem at the beginning was written the night before a 20% exam. Alhamdulillah, I went better than expected in the exam.

http://lamzblog.blogspot.com/2010/09/in-search-of-dream.html - Written 2 days before another exams. Results were approximately what I expected.

http://lamzblog.blogspot.com/2010/06/waiting-for-rain.html - I remember writing this before an exam too. Can't remember which one.

There was another poem I remember writing, the day before my maths extension 2 hsc exam. It began with: 'The dark radiance of sin emanate from her hands'. 

As you can see, the darkness is not due to permanent scars in my mind, in need of extensive study. Just creative juices leaking out via bad poetry. 

Frustration of the Struggle

My soul was created,
Cherished in heaven
until it was requested for.


From light to darkness have I travelled,
From freedom to constriction;
Commanded to latch onto her body,
Let my body swim as it grew
Grow as it swam
Until the water could not bear me any more.
I descended from darkness into the light.


They forced me on this journey, without my consent.
I cried.
I screamed.
Unable to speak, I let the pitch of my voice let them know.
They forced me on this journey, without my consent.
Without my consent.


She smiled at me.
He smiled at me.
They took me in their arms,
smiling.


I wept.


Then, 
I grew as I learnt
Learnt as I grew.
The One replaced my tears with smiles
My eyes sparked with hope
My face glowed in anticipation
Pearly white teeth never to be put away
Little feet pattered down the hall


Soft, unstained, virgin soul remained
As if it had never descended from above.
At times I scratched at it.
Yet, it bounced back,
As if no nails can ever rip it apart.
A little white lie
A little secret from my mother
A little push in the playground
It didn't matter.


I grew, as I learnt, I learnt, as I grew.
I became a woman, remained a girl at heart.


A little white lie
A little secret from my mother
A little push in the playground
Still remained.
Started to scratch my soul.
They dug their nails
Hoping nothing have changed.
They forgot,
I became a woman.


The impossible occured,
Roughness evaded.


A little white lie
Became dark deception.
A little secret from my mother
Thwarted me.
A little push in the playground
Became hatred.


I crawled an inch forward
Ran ten steps back.
I climbed a plant leaf
Dropped from the canopy of a rainforest.


seven years have passed.
Yet, I am still hovering
Dropping
backwards
Every time I crawl an inch forward.


--


p.s: The title should be 'hello world, hope you're listening. But the typo sort of makes it a cool line!


p.p.s: Its 10.10.10! 

Before it explodes

Disclaimer: This does not reflect my current state, just my attempt at creativity.

When the sun leaves your world,
And you wish you could
pull on that last strand of its rays -
pull it close to your heart;
Instead,
You realise,
millions of clouds are replacing its spot,
and you can't move your fingers,
and you can't move your lips,
and you can't feel your hair on your shoulders;
Yet you feel a heavy weight,
waiting to crush your body,
resting itself on your back;
And when your tears drip to your lips,
then your knees,
then your feet;
And you question your existence,

Remember:
[insert happy memories here]

Dead star shine, light up the sky

Sum showed me this song a few days ago. I'm posting the acapella version, since I like it the best. This girl has a beautiful voice, she reaches inside me. This song - I can't explain how - but, at the moment, I can relate to it, at least, some parts of it. Anyway, its a beautiful song.

I need to pick up my life and wash it.



I'm all out of breath, my walls are closing in
Days go by, give me a sign
Come back to the end, the shepherd of the damned

I can feel you falling away
No longer the lost, no longer the same
And I can see you starting to break
I'll keep you alive if you show me the way
Forever and ever the scars will remain
I'm falling apart, leave me here forever in the dark

Daylight dies, blackout the sky
Does anyone care? Is anybody there?
Take this life, empty inside
I'm already dead, I'll rise to fall again

I can feel you falling away
No longer the lost, no longer the same
And I can see you starting to break
I'll keep you alive if you show me the way
Forever and ever the scars will remain
I'm falling apart, leave me here forever in the dark

God, help me, I've come undone
Out of the light of the sun
God, help me, I've come undone
Out of the light of the sun

I can feel you falling away
No longer the lost, no longer the same
And I can see you starting to break
I'll keep you alive if you show me the way
Forever and ever the scars will remain

Give me a sign
There's something buried in the words
Give me a sign
Your tears are adding to the flood

Just give me a sign
There's something buried in the words
Give me a sign
Your tears are adding to the flood

Just give me a sign
There's something buried in the words
Give me a sign
Your tears are adding to the flood

Forever and ever the scars will remain

A Perfect Reminder

I came across this while searching for a solution. A perfect, perfect solution. I pray and hope that this helps you too.

Poetry

'Tis a result of weather-mood synchronicity. Its raining outside.
---

Stuck in a stalemate,
Wondering if its too late to try,
To attempt
To fix the damage.
I know your heart cries.
Swimming in harsh lies, now
My thoughts betray my image.

Those bright red flowers in the front yard
Spotted doves on my windowsill
Morning sunlight through your blinds
Mean nothing when silent tears
form at the corner of our minds.

That sinking feeling lingers
Longer, as the truth sinks in,
You aren't lying when you tell me,
I hurt you more than death can.

Somebody once told me, the world was gonna roll me

Hope is what is keeping you alive. Whether you are a believer or not, it is hope that makes you get up everyday. Its what you see in the morning sun. Its what you see in a beautiful flower that grows out of sight, behind a broken wall. Its what you experience in a hug. Its what he didn't have when he left, believing he was the 'black sheep'. Its what he didn't have, when he was contemplating suicide. Its what she lacked when she took the first whiff of a cigarette, then the first taste of an illegal drug. Its what they don't feel when they let their eyes wonder too far to forbidden places. Its what he gave up when he picked up a knife to decorate it with blood. 

Or maybe its what they hoped to have. 

Words can build up hope, until it reaches the clouds and climbs on top. Until it escapes the Earth's atmosphere and wonders out into the space, towards infinity. Then, they can tear it down, crush it to the ground, until in breaks the dry earth, reaches inside, and burns in lava. Funny thing is, they don't usually realise that they are making such powerful changes.

"Somebody once asked could I spare some change for gas
I need to get myself away from this place
I said yep what a concept
I could use a little fuel myself
And we could all use a little change."

Random fact: I really admire people who can sing well.

Bits and pieces of thoughts

When I woke up for the third time today, the first thing my eyes stared at was the sky. The clouds were unusually beautiful this morning, forming a perfectly picturesque background. Spring is entering our neighbourhood very visibly - All the trees are beginning to flower, light green leaves are emerging and covering bare branches. An old man smiled as I passed his house on my way to the station. Everything seemed at peace. I had a nice sleep during the train ride, nice chat with MG over coffee (her coffee, and my determination to refrain from spending in unnecessary causes, due to my recent loss of students. Note the pluralness of the word. Tragic.), a few minutes of physics, giggles, meeting for PSD and the usuals. While walking home in the evening, I noticed the old man still stood on his porch. The sky was still beautiful.

PSD - Pink Scarf Day - is organised to raise money for National Breast Cancer Foundation, held by the Islamic Society on our campus. Breast cancer is the most common cause of death of women in Australia. Everyday, 30 women discover they have breast cancer, in this country. Its so easy to be one of the 30! So easy to be unlucky, even after being blessed with everything that we're blessed with - a comfortable home, great education, security, amazing weather and nature. Last year, they raised more than $4000 for the foundation, this year - there's a higher aim. So, Smruthi, FG, Aniqa: visit us with your friends on the 14th of October. :)

The 'giggle'-ing occurred due to various sillinesses relating to one exciting event. The details shall be posted sometime in the future, but I have never been more excited to see cuteness.

Lately, I am regretting my words as soon as they leave my lips, or my hands. I often do not mean them with the gravity that they are received, and am left stranded, in confusion, trying to figure out what went wrong. The result is that the person I am talking to has much less respect for me, maybe even starts to dislike me. I know that the desire to be 'liked' by everyone is vain, but that is not the case here. I usually (try not to) care when I am disliked for something I do when I believe it to be right. In these cases, the person who is doing the 'disliking' is usually not worth the trouble. However, when it is my own shortcomings that cause it, I feel very ashamed. I feel like it will be reflected on everything I stand for; even though I merely 'stand for' them, I do not 'define' them. I guess the only solution to this is to think about my words before I say them, then hope for the best. I guess there is also the option of not speaking, or typing, at all. But I don't think that solution will work very well on my mind. It will be like trying to stay away from chocolate.

I have a lot to do. Google tells me that Mark Twain once said: The secret of getting ahead is getting started. The secret of getting started is breaking your complex overwhelming tasks into small manageable tasks, and then starting on the first one.

Therefore, I shall go and start, inshaAllah.

Little wet tears

Certain moments in your life remind you that everyone and everything around you are just variables in your life. God is the only constant, Who will always remain a constant. I wish I could hold onto those moments. I wish I always remembered. These moments do not have to be part of a huge event. It may have been the moment you truly admired the sunset from your heart, or when one single leaf, or an eye, earned your amazement with its complexity. Or when your tear glands started working heavily after you failed; or passed unexpectedly with flying, vibrant colours. It may be the moment that you are experiencing now, as you look back and try to search something beautiful in your memory, and come up with a million surprising images.

“Count your nights by stars, not shadows; count your life with smiles, not tears.”

A Rainy Afternoon

Raindrops splash on my window.
They dance in that bare, wooden tree,
Sliding across the ocean of
The world that swims around me.

They sing to a quiet, little bird,
Who trembles in fear of their strength,
Hiding beneath comfortable leaves,
For a miracle, it prays at length.

They celebrate a secret joy -
Dancing in the roof of a car,
Licking away at a pile of filth,
Drunkenly sliding over each other.

I stay in my bed, bemused -
Watching the rain as it reigns;
Making some smile, making some cry,
Driving some others insane.

--

Written sometime during September. This depicts an actual rainy afternoon. :)

Dream with your eyes wide open

The time period for my optimal productivity is exactly three days. On the fourth day, both my body and brain go haywire - body wants to sleep till noon and brain wants to turn away from everything that involves its use. I discovered this yesterday - which was another 'fourth day'. Therefore, I have concluded that one week should contain four days, instead of seven. Three weekdays and one-day-weekend. I have also discovered one of the wisdoms behind the concept of Taqwa - to increase productivity.

Taqwa is a huge concept in Islam. But for the benefit of my readers, a short summary is: It is the simultaneous, balanced feeling and expression of love, hope and fear of God. I guess, this is one of the things that sets Islam apart from Christianity (correct me if I'm wrong, FG, I admit to knowing very little about your faith, even though we've been best friends for two years! :$). As far as I know - in Christianity, love of God and hope in His mercy is emphasised the most, when it comes to knowing who exactly God is. In Islam - The Quran mentions 99 qualities of God, and they are a mixture of qualities of love, hope, might, justice - the whole bunch! As a Muslim, we are asked to keep these in mind when we stand before God. In fact, when we do anything and everything.

The thing is, for the past few weeks, I have only been reminding myself of God's mercy and love. Yes, it helps me get up every morning. It keeps me from horrible thoughts and prevents me from leaving myself at my lowest points. However, what I have seen it, it wears out after a few days. I keep thinking, 'God will forgive me because He is the Most Merciful' and 'no matter what I do, God will love me because He loves His creations more than a mother loves her child' and 'God is Al-Mujib, the Answerer of Prayers, so I can ask for anything any time and He'll give it, so who cares if I slack off a little?' The problem is 'a little' turns into 'a whole day' which turns into a week. After the initial push, remembrance of Allah's mercy is not done in the correct way in my mind, and it causes me to procrastinate. 

However, fear without hope also causes problems. It makes me think that I cannot ever get out of my situation because if the All-Mighty does not help me, what power is left? Then, there is excessive worries, which results in procrastination again, because, if you believe that nothing can be done, then nothing is done. 

Therefore, as I have realised MANY times before (and then forgotten again), Islam provides the perfect balance. The scholar Ibn ul Qayyim al Jawziyyah expresses it beautifully: 

"The heart in its journey towards Allah, is like a bird whose head is love, and hope and fear are its two wings. When the head and the two wings are sound and healthy the flight of the bird is good, but when the head is cut off, it immediately dies, and when either or both wings are deficient, the bird cannot properly fly and may become victim of any hunter or snare. The righteous predecessors preferred to strengthen the wing of fear during good times when heedlessness is feared, and to strengthen the wing of hope at times of calamity and when near death.
Some have said that it is better to strengthen fear more than hope because when vain hopes overcome a person he is ruined. Others say that the best of situations is a complete balance of hope and fear with overwhelming love, for love is composite,while hope is a sharpener and fear a driver."

Of course, the perfect balance is extremely hard to achieve. But, reward is proportional to effort. I hope I remember.

Last wednesday, (second day of my optimal productive days) I was walking out of my optics lectures to go to the
prayer room, which is on the opposite side of our university. The amount of walking done at uni would have increased my fitness level long ago, if I regulated my food intake (and actually climbed up every step instead of trying to discover every lift available!). Anyway, being the coward little girl that I am, I decided to walk all the way to the prayer room.Yet, as soon as I stepped out, I saw a beautiful sight. A man was praying on the green grass, ignoring every other soul around him, and turning only to his Creator. It wasn't a carefully chosen spot, away from everyone's eyes. Neither were his moves constricted and self-conscious. The sun was falling on his long brown hair and beard. He finished the ritual and raised his hand to his Lord. It was so beautiful! So beautiful! I remained frozen in my spot for a few seconds. I do not know who it was, for all I know it could be an angel in human form. Or an illusion. It made me feel very ashamed. Even though I have prayed in open places, I lack the courage to do so at uni. I don't know why. But that person really did make me think twice. If I say I love the truth, why should I be afraid to express it?

Sometimes I feel like I am wasting the most beautiful years of my life. I should be doing something for the world, I should be helping to reduce poverty, I should be fighting for the rights of women, I should be travelling, I should be using my beautiful life to make other peoples' lives beautiful. Why am I tripping in the most basic places? These years will be gone in a blink and I will find myself trying to figure out what went wrong. I was talking to Shad Apu the other day. She's 26 (I think, or was it 27?) and has a beautiful daughter. She was telling me that she still remembers her first year of university. She remembers how full of life she was. She remembers how much of a dreamer she was. And those moments passed so quickly, that she wonders what she could've done if they were still hers. She said that she loves being a mother, yet, she lost the chirpy restlessness she felt at 19. The feeling that she can conquer the world if she wanted to.

So, I took out a pen and paper, and wrote down some goals. Things I want to do in my life. So that I can look back when I am eighty-eight, and not regret. I understand that these goals will probably change as I grow, but at least they are a starting point! 

In search of a dream

Dreams float in my mind.
I stare intently,
Desparately trying to get lost in their world.
Trying to grasp a few,
Or even one.
To embed it in my heart,
Then run as fast as I can.
So that the dream becomes my goal,
The goal becomes my reality.
Only then,
Will the reality feel like a dream. 




p.s.: All career directions I have or had in the past seem like illusions.


p.p.s: I like real bubbles. I hate figurative bubbles.

12/09

Its another beautiful day; I am sitting here, loving it, yet, dreading tomorrow. I have my chemistry mid semester exam tomorrow. Its only 10%, and its a multiple choice exam, but I know that if I screw it up, of which there is a huge chance, I will suffer from low self esteem and screw up every single chemistry exam after that. I also have my optics exam on Wednesday - the famous exam which keeps being postponed and saving my soul. I don't think it will be postponed any longer. And so I can feel my heavy heart sinking very, very low, at the thought of Wednesday.

The past few days were not supposed to be very enjoyable, given my close proximity to the exams. Yet, they were very, very enjoyable. I felt like I want to freeze my life at certain points and live in that moment, forever. One such moment was when I received my very first camera. I thought my very first camera would be Pentax x90 - at which I have gazed lovingly for a very long time. I thought I would buy it with my own money when I save up enough. Since I am very bad at saving up, it was supposed to be what my siblings would give me if I get into a certain course. Since I am not exactly sure about my career path any more, they decided to give up. As I have mentioned before, my mother has been very generous and have given me a Canon PowerShot sx120. My siblings bought me a cute pouch, my memory card and two extra years of warranty. They also seem to think that it gives them the right to slave me around the next three years. That, children, is what one gets for being the youngest.

I love my camera. I shall have a lot more photos and a lot less words from now on, like Aniqa. If I can be bothered.

AND unexpectedly, I saw Aniqa yesterday, during an Eid visit. How random? There were days when I would see you more often at blogland than uni. Now, I see you more often at other people's houses than blogland. (Yes, it was only once, but that can be referred to as 'more often' since I don't see you anywhere any more - AT ALL!)

I have thoroughly enjoyed my Eid visits this year. In fact, I have thoroughly enjoyed my Eid this year full stop. (It is probably a product of procrastination, the extra happiness you feel when you make yourself useful doing something good at the wrong time.) The day started off with foggy air, hints of excitement in every breath. It proceeded with a little bit of screaming, running, hurrying, shoving ourselves into our clothes, eating, running out to the car, prayer, being surrounded by amazing and amusing kids, having a house full of people yet feeling like there is space for everyone, taking lots and lots of photos, having an amazing time with certain people ie: Sum, Ana. Ana trekked all the way down from her place and gave me a special respected spot for trekking all the way there every single day. Jo came, and brought delicious gifts. The only thing is - I didn't get a lollybag. I helped make them yet I did not get one! I was eye-ing every item while making them for the little kids. :(

I was supposed to make some sort of a dessert this Eid. After much contemplation, the day before Eid, I decided on sticky date pudding. With great enthusiasm, I set out to create a masterpiece, just like I have done a few Eids ago. I still remember the ooh's and aah's as people tasted my pudding. So, I mixed everything in. I realised that we were short of self raising flour. So, being the smug expert that I am, I decided to chuck in a random amount of plain flour and baking soda together. I might've put in a little extra, thinking that it would give it an extra rise! Much to my amazement, the pudding had a huge black spot right in the middle. After a while the liquid started to rise, continued to rise until it fell down the sides. I couldn't watch any more.

It ended up as round balls of bitterness.

ps: Happy birthday, my two beautiful best friends!

Fleeting thoughts

Tomorrow is Eid.

Ramadan passed me by faster than the blink of an eye. Yes, alhamdulillah, I feel like I have gained something from it this time. I feel an inch closer to Him. I feel an inch more satisfied with my life. But I know, the real challenge starts now. I have to hold on. I have to hold on to Him. The thing is - if you are not a spiritual person, or if you have never felt a moment of spirituality, you will not be able to feel what I feel. But if you have tasted its sweetness, you will know exactly what I am talking about. To all those that belong in the second group, I pray that you feel a little closer to Him.

Yet, tomorrow is Eid. I feel quite excited. This morning, I was feeling the same way I used to feel ten years ago. Butterflies in my stomach, plan after plan after plan, images running through my mind, overlapping each other. Don't ask me what I plan for - they are the silliest things you can think of. Nothing related to Eid. Just happy thoughts.

Today.

Yet another afternoon with the sun peeking through the blinds of this room. I was quite excited when Cho & Co came over last weekend. I showed them my much loved windows. They must've been disappointed. Yes, I must've gone overboard with expressing my love for a few windows, but still, I was surprised to see a lack of reaction - any reaction. Even though there was about ten of them, and one of me, I like to think that my perspectives are more correct.


"Suppose, i gave you my eyes.
Will you be able to see
what i see??"


---


7.20 pm:


The tiny poem above is titled 'Even If', and written by a blogger called Sumi, to whom I was introduced by Smruthi (I figured, shortening her name is of no use any more, she has her full name in her blog). This girl is amazingly talented, and has a good eye. I love the way she sees the world as an artist, thus, she is right to doubt everybody else's points of views. I know a few other people like that, Ana, for example. Her mind seems to wonder everywhere, and create little beauties in unexpected places.


I am quite excited right now. There are several things happening in my life/in someone else's life I care about. It feels like another turning point, like I am living the moments I do not want to pass. Reasons for the adrenaline rushes:
1. Eid is coming up!
2. One of my best friends might be experiencing some new and pleasant experiences soon. I wish her, and all the people involved, good luck. (You're probably reading it, without an idea that this is about you!)
3. I am going on a holiday at the end of this year, to the country I have a love-hate relationship with.
4. I am getting a new camera! My mum has been very kind to offer me a camera, which, inshaAllah, we will be buying tomorrow. SLRs are still in my dreams, therefore, I shall be content with a point-and-shoot. In fact, I shall be very, VERY happy. It'll be my first camera, ever. :D


Alhamdulillah. Life is wonderful, and it is continuing to be wonderful. 


A friend asked once, what I will say to my daughter if she makes my mistakes. I thought about it today. I figured, the only way to bring up a person to be a 'human being' is to bring her up according to what you truly believe in, instead of what you'd like to believe in. You have to be completely honest with her about everything in your life, even if they are shortcomings you would not like to reveal to a child. Wisdom and deception are not the same thing; neither are honesty and stupidity. Be wise, yet honest. If my child makes the same mistakes as me, even after I tell her my reasons for doing and not doing certain things, even after I try my best to be honest and wise, to lead her to the that I am truly convinced is right, then I will leave it up to her and pray to God that everything turns out fine - because, at the end of the day, everything is up to Him. In His hands, Who made me turn to Him. There is nothing I can do to influence another person's actions, if God does not want me to.


"I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. "

'Fragmentary Blue's

Disclaimer: This post is not worth reading unless you want to waste your time behind pure wastage of time.

Broken hearted rhythms tap into my mind,
They wonder through this puzzle, trying hard to find
Any broken bits or a little bit of crack -
Subtle clues to tell them what I lack.
They slowly walk all over this hidden piece of stone,
Scribbling vigorously the times when I'm alone;
Poking with their sticks, digging, beginning to ponder
Why this is turning out to be a blunder.

Product of pseudo-depression the night before an exam.

Its a cloudy day. I don't feel like doing anything today, yet I have a lot of things to do today. Was it the Night of Power last night? I hope not.

I have a lot of things to do this week. Chemistry, Optics, Physics to study for, Eid to prepare for, Ramadan to use.

I have a lot of things to do this month

I have a lot of things to do this year.

I have a lot of things to do for the rest of my life. First - I need to figure out what to do with it though...

Two of my best friends' birthdays are coming up. Amazingly, both of their birthdays are on the same day - 12th September. One is exactly two years younger than the other.

Since I have nothing to say, I shall stop wasting your precious time. But then, since you kept reading after the disclaimer, I suppose you wanted to waste your time.

P.S: Did you know that Frost wrote a poem on 'blue'?

Why make so much of fragmentary blue
In here and there a bird, or butterfly,
Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye,
When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue?

Since earth is earth, perhaps, not heaven (as yet)--
Though some savants make earth include the sky;
And blue so far above us comes so high,
It only gives our wish for blue a whet.

Beautiful!

For I cannot weaken if You are with me

For certain reasons, I really needed to do well in the two exams that was scheduled for today. One was supposed to be held from 10 am to 11 am, worth 20%. The other - 3 pm to 4 pm, worth 25%. I started studying a few days ago. Out of the five chapters for the 25% test, I got through three of them properly. For the other exam - I stayed up until 3 am last night, studying. Of course, I wasted a lot of time before this, which I feel deep regret for. Anyway, lately, I have been feeling that God is my only hope, only hope of anything and everything. So I turned to Him. As impossible as it sounded, I asked Allah to make a way for me know learn all the content before the 25% test. What would've taken me two weeks, I was asking to do in two hours. This seemed absolutely impossible and the whole time I was thinking, Allah has infinite powers, therefore, anything is possible.

SubhanAllah, when I got to uni, I heard that the exam is postponed. My heart was beating so fast. This is another miracle. The power of Dua is amazing! It made my faith stronger. I felt assured that anything I ask for WILL be answered. If not directly, it will be answered in another way.

Did I talk about Caravanserai yet? It is a song that makes me feel calm, makes me cry, yet helps me to wipe my tears. Its by Talib Al-Habib, an amazing singer who makes use of his voice in one of the best ways possible. I found it interesting that his lyrics are written by his wife. He has a new CD out - Songs of Wayfarer. I was listening to Heartsong. It lifts up your spirit and makes you feel close to Him.

Hear now, my heart song, my heart calls to You,
That you guide me, my Lord, through my soul's long, dark night.
I send my heart song across the empty silences,
To You.
May You fill me with peace and with light,
Lost in an ocean of doubt and confusion,
Am I seeking your burning beacon light?
Strengthen my hand and my heart when I falter
For I cannot weaken if You are with me.

I have listened to a few more of Maher Zain's songs - I really like this one. It reflects exactly how I feel.

I find it amazing that I am flying through physics without having an idea of what's going on. I really do need to catch up, and Smru, if you are reading this, tell me that I need to catch up! Every subject at uni is speeding by and I need to use the upcoming seven uni-free days. Unfortunately (or fortunately?) Eid falls on one of those days. So much to do, so little time!

I am sleepy.

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep."