Iman/Faith is like...

...being deeply in love with someone who treats you as though you are the most precious thing in the universe; you just can't help wanting to

Humbled

I'm still overcoming the sweet feeling of being deeply touched...

Yesterday afternoon, I received a random email from someone who had purchased my book from iTunes but was having trouble viewing it on her personal computer. I replied with instructions to download an eBook reader such as Adobe Digital Editions.

In response to my email, after first thanking me for solving her issue, it truly was humbling

Let me be honest

Okay, I'm going to have to be honest...
Writing lately has been painful - too much a chore... It just hasn't been as enjoyable as it used to be.

So I can't help trying to think back to the times when writing was effortless... There must be a significant element I am currently missing. What exactly did I write about back then? Why was I motivated to write? Why did I feel a burning desire to write? What is the problem now?

(Sigh) Perhaps I'll try sleep on it...

Nostalgia

The past week has truly been an interesting one of unexpectedly remembering random things from my schooling days. From the novel collections I used to read, to the boy bands I used to love!

The funny thing about this past week is - since that moment I found myself beginning to think about those times, it's as if my thoughts have drawn in people and things that "take me back" even further to that period in my life.

For instance, just yesterday, while hanging out with a group of friends, somehow we began talking about the music we loved "back in the days"

The Chapter of Living

So I recently published my first book, Unveiling, which is a little bit like an 'autobiography', except that I decided to remain a bit of a mystery by instead sharing my life through my collection of poetry that I've written over the past 14 years. So while I believe my poetry does reflect my personal and spiritual growth, especially through the order I've placed them in, often poetry can be interpreted in various ways and thus they may be perceived differently from one reader to the next.

The past day or so, I was just remembering a statement made by one of my close friends, who was kind enough to proofread my book before I sent it for publishing. After reading the whole book, she said to me that when she got to the end, she couldn't help thinking, "What happen's next?"

Because like any life story, the story will continue until the traveller's last breath... 

(Actually, the story continues even after that last breath, but that's another discussion altogether.)

Thinking about all this just gave me an idea that I'm really excited about and that I plan to put into action very soon!

Claustrophobia

In this multicultural society we live in, it's important to be aware that sometimes, modern fashion can be a source of trauma for certain individuals!

Let us examine this piece of jewellery I came across just moments earlier.

At first sight, my initial thought was: "Wow, how funky is my friend to have chosen such a unique item for an accessory."

So you can just imagine my surprise to suddenly hear our mutual friend, who was sitting between us when she noticed the ring for the first time, suddenly exclaim

POEM: My Silent Friend

She knows my secrets
  The depth of my joys and sorrows
When others see my deceiving faces
  Only she and God hear of my hidden truths

She beckons me to offload my burdens
  But lets me be when she knows the strain
Knows the struggle to form the words
  To move the lips while the eyes shut in the rain

She is considerate, she is patient
  She knows the grievances of my heart
So light is the feeling after she takes my stresses
  And turns them into a work of art

Because she is my words that gush forth
  In songs and passages and poetry
She is my otherwise silent friend
  Who now waits dormant once again.

Purchase "Unveiling" to read more of my poetry

POEM: The space between the words of this title

It is a gift we all possess
  Yet is seldom given
It has no pricetag
  But it has a price
  Yet it is priceless

We have plenty of it
  Yet we have none
Or rather, we find comfort in telling ourselves that it has its own spirit that cannot be tamed
  Yet it very gladly gives in to us when with conviction, we clutch its reigns

We celebrate its progress
  Yet we mourn its inevitable end
It is our enemy
  It is our friend

It is found between these letters, these words, these stanzas
  Between each thought that formed these lines
Found in every day, hour that passes
  Yes - it is the falling sands of Time.

Purchase "Unveiling" to read more of my poetry

Writer's Block - be GONE!

I was just reflecting on how, up until 2007, I was writing almost every moment of the day. I was filling up notebook after notebook with my streams of consciousness, short stories and poetry. My mind was constantly awake, and would even awaken me in the middle of the night and urge me to write some significant thought that couldn't wait till the morning.

But since that fateful year of 2007, (I suppose because of the significant events of that year), suddenly the burning desire and 'need' to write just disappeared. And it just hasn't been the same since these past 4 years...

Nonetheless, instead of just sitting around as I have been, just thinking about how much I wish that damned disease of "Writer's Block" would just leave my system already, my intention for this new year of 2012 is

POEM: It's Hard

FINALLY finished that poem I started writing back at Uni! But before I get into it, here's some background about it: 

I wrote it after thinking one day about how hard it is sometimes to live Islam - how hard it is when you have people holding you back (people stuck in their 'cultural ways', who grew up with this 'twisted version of Islam', who attempt to impose their 'Way' on others - though you can't blame them when they probably know no other way themselves...)
But more recently, I was thinking further that there is another level to the challanges we young Muslims face today - in the form of Shaytan both "from among Jinn and men" (i.e. the challenge of conquering one's own desires, but also trying to combat pressure from peers/society.)

Now, without further ado, here is the finished product of many weeks of quiet contemplation... 

* * * * *

It's Hard

It's hard
goin up against the grain
ppl afraida wat's 'strange'
n jus don't wanna change!
They hard
yeh, they set in their ways
in their routine days
dictatin wat 'culture' says.

It's hard
tryin to be that 'tough chick'
always givin Shaytan the flick
when damn, he so slick!
So hard
but believe it's worth the price
coz baby, jus think of how nice
it'll be in paradise.

Purchase "Unveiling" to read more of my poetry

How beautiful...

Imagine...

Someone you've never met before - from a completely different background to yourself. You can barely communicate with each other, being fluent in different languages...
Yet, SubhanAllah, in spite of all this, you can still stand as 'one', facing 'one' direction, your focus/intentions 'one', your movements 'one', and your lips echoing praises and thanks for 'The One'...

Imagine...

You seat yourself on a random plane, fly to wherever the wind takes you...
Yet, SubhanAllah, in spite of being a 'stranger' in a 'strange' land, you will always find 'home', always find 'peace' as you stand among your new brethren, facing 'The Peace'...

Quite simply... how beautiful :)

SubhanAllah, Walhamdulillah!

SubhanAllah, I swear hey, Someone up there is SO looking out for me... Alhamdulillah :D

Today, I had a job interview in the north. So I left my house over an hour earlier, just in case I couldn't find the place, or traffic was bad. So I'm just cruisin along...

I remember thinking to myself though as I left the house - should I even go to this interview when the interview for the job I TRULY want is tomorrow; is there a point in going when Insha Allah, I'm getting the other job anyway... But then, I thought I'll just go for the experience - as 'practice' for the real thing...

I'm about 10mins away from my destination (while I still have an HOUR to go before the interview even begins!), when I recall vividly thinking to myself, 'Wouldn't it be funny if, though it hasn't happened yet, and of all times it could happen, my car breaks down on the way..."
A couple of streets later, I

The Art of Laziness

Arguably, living a life of laziness actually takes SKILL. SERIOUSLY!

Because to a 'lazy person' (the term that i will from here on abbreviate to 'LP' - being one myself :P), every action they take MUST be worthwhile, otherwise they won't bother carrying it out to begin with. So a lot of time is first spent in THINKING/planning how to be most 'efficient' in every sphere of life that requires WORK - studies, chores, fitness, etc.

So contrary to popular belief, the TRUE LPs are smarter than one may initially give them credit - they in fact NEED to be clever/CREATIVE if they wish to continue their life of 'ease'.

So perhaps more than any other Average Aisha, LPs are the true Physicians, understanding the 'application' of the formula for POWER better than many:

Energy = Power
-------
Time

where, Energy = WORK

The objective of a LP is to MAXIMISE the outcome (i.e. Power, which is the 'rate at which one works'). However, unlike most people, LPs understand that