Noise of the Quiet

It makes me so happy to see people whom I’ve know since childhood grow up and embrace this faith in leaps and bounds. I more or less see myself as having stayed roughly in the same place. So it’s humbling. Because it reminds me that there are many leaps and bounds for myself to take too, inshaAllah.

What a strange sensation. To love someone despite how much you don’t like them.

Will Allah punish me for praying?

hakuna-mataataa:

Imām Sa’īd b. Al-Musayyib – Allāh have mercy on him – once saw a man praying more than two rak’ah after the beginning of Fajr, making many bows and prostrations, and so he forbade him. The man said,

“O Abu Muhammad, is Allāh going to punish me for praying?”

Sa’īd said, “No, but He will punish you for contradicting the Sunnah.”

Al-Bayhaqī, As-Sunan Al-Kubraa 2:466. graded sahīh by Shaykh Al-Albānī. See Irwā Al-Ghalīl 2:236.

Shaykh Al-Albānī writes:

This is one of the superb answers given by Sa’īd b. Al-Musayyib - Allāh have mercy on him. It is a strong weapon against heretics (mubtadi’ah) who recommend many different types of religious innovation in the name of them being dhikr and prayer. They then criticize the followers of the Sunnah for criticizing them, and accuse them of censuring dhikr and prayer, when in fact [Ahl Al-Sunnah] are only criticizing the contravention of the Sunnah in matters such as dhikr and prayer.

I am in awe of those extremely passionate people who have the capability to unleash storms because of the faith they love. Who propel their anger and hatred towards anything and anyone who attacks that faith which they love. Who are willing to move mountains to protect what is most precious to them. Who act and speak and think with certainty and confidence but with an air of humility and not a hint of arrogance. Whose love for what has given them life makes them fierce, intimidating and so, so strong.

They fascinate me.

What I look forward to the most

is the scent. The scent that I’ve caught maybe a handful of times in the past nine years that I can’t find a name for, yet would always inject me with a sense of otherness, of having been somewhere else. 

is the dust. Not the kind that settles on untouched appliances and television screens but the dust of the earth when it breathes into your toes as you walk.

is the uninterrupted horizon. That line that you can see because there’s nothing there to obstruct the sight of it, but can never reach because it’s so far. Yet you are willing to walk towards it for the sheer beauty of the path.

are the stars. The deep, engulfing night sky scattered with them, the absence of the selfish artificiality that covers them.

is the quiet. No, the noise of the quiet. The sounds that mold into the wallpaper of every day, unheard of until you listen. 

Is the realness. The raw, no-flavours-added realness.

.

Why are you waiting for someone else to make you happy when  you’ve always had your Self? Why do you consider your Self unworthy of making you smile? Of keeping you company? Why is it so strange to converse with your Self when you know it’ll listen and hear and understand? How is this kind of relationship not a beautiful thing?

You should pack on the day you leave. That way, you maximize the time you can spend sleeping in your own bed. Or just sleep on top of them all; extra padding should make for a comfortable night’s worth of sleep.

—> LOL. My mom would hate it if I kept it to the last minute! I ended up making a mountain out of them on my desk instead. It’s pretty intimidating.

Judging by what’s considered a “bestseller” book these days, I am making it my goal as a writer to never become one.

If only people had segregated weddings more often. 

I could totally dress up and stuff.