The Day I Stopped Praying (Duaa)

It's a day I found out something horrible. It was almost like a scene from a movie. The lead actress gets the call and faints from shock. I didn't faint, freak out or scream for help. I calmly sat down, shut my eyes and begged Allah to guide me. Inwardly I was commending myself for my strong faith.

Hours later when I was all alone, the screaming started in the car. I screamed: "Yarab. Yarab. Yarab!" [Oh God. Oh God. Oh God!]. I shook from inside screaming for my Lord. I gave it all I had. I needed Him now. I must have repeated it 100 times. I screamed like a maniac. I believed in my heart He heard me. He would comfort me. It will all be alright. He is on my side.

The first thing I did when I got home was collapse on my prayer rug. In sujood, I begged, I pleaded, I cried. I no longer had the energy to scream, but I cried myself to sleep right there on my prayer mat. I woke up in the fetal position dazed.

I continued to pray. I prayed for hours and days all while sitting in the same spot. I had faith that this was all a test, one that I must pass! One day I would smile again. It was very possible that this nightmare was going to be over.

My prayers (duaa) faded since the infamous day. It seems that my hidden pain is keeping me from pleading to Allah for forgiveness and guidance. No longer do I feel sincere nor do I care. And what breaks my heart of all?

I failed my test...

A Day in the City

Written during Summer 2008.

The station reeked of urine and expensive cologne. The bums were everywhere, anticipating leftover dinner from the thousand of travelers, and maybe a cigarette. Though I should be gaging, I was somehow enjoying my unexpected adventure. I collected the courage to get off a couple of stops early from my usual destination. Class wasn't for a couple of hours, and my stomach was growling for some unusual food.

I get off the train and walk aimlessly. I stare at people. I haven't seen so many people rushing to be somewhere. I see suits, shorts and hijabs! Is that guy waving at me? Wait, he is mumbling something. I think he said Salamu alaikum and perhaps that was a wink. Wow. Nice try, buster!

I finally find my way out of the station. It's warm and sunny. Good thing I brought my sunglasses. Nancy starts singing on my iPod,"Ehsas jedeed..b-albak byzeed..Bit-hesso bi kilima btit-tala3 fiyah."

I find the food court that is notorious for their baked goods and diverse foods. I roam around until I see the "Indian and Paki Cuisine" sign. Perfecto! Exactly what I am in the mood for: chicken korma, naan and a mango lassi to wash it all down. The food is okay, under-salted? Too little naan. Who is that I see? Could it be?

...

(Feel free to imagine what happened next)

How Could You Be So Heartless?

When I asked one of the students to finish their classwork, he responded, "How could you be so heartless?"

Suddenly the noisy, chaotic classroom became quiet, and together they started singing this.

I couldn't hold back laughter. For just a second, I found a connection with my students.

Ya and apparently I am Dr. Evil.

On Taking Off The Hijab

Facebook tells me that a number of my friends have decided to throw hijab out the door. The long sleeve shirts are now short; The hair that used to be tied under the shiny, glamorous scarves are now free to fly with the wind and the scarf is now around the neck for styling purposes.

It's so tempting to judge. It's even more tempting to get in their face and scream "haraaaaaaaaaaaaaam!"

Once a very smart woman told me, "Hijab is one of the visible aspects of iman for sisters, it's easier to place judgmenet, although we all have our own weaknesses that might be hidden from the world."

So I refrain from judging anyone. My friends who took over the scarves are the same good girls who are active in their community with good manners and hearts. They haven't changed since the scarf came off. As a matter of fact, when I look back at my own history, one of my strongest moments of faith was when I didn't cover in my early teens. People might have looked at me and labeled me as an "non-practicing" Muslimah. But in my heart, I was so connected to Allah. I feared Him so.

I don't mean to diminish the importance of the scarf, as I've stated, it's an obligation, both men and women have a dress code to adhere to. We must realize that many Muslimahs out there dress in hijab with no Iman or true connection to God. The scarf becomes a symbol of culture, conformity, fashion, etc.

Allah tells us that deeds are based on intentions. My intentions of wearing hijab is to please Allah, to be humble and modest. I want to meet the Prophet at the fountain and tell him, "Oh RasulAllah, I followed your teachings. I am from your Ummah." I don't want to be among the Muslims who will be dragged by the Angels away from the Prophet since they decided to go astray. He will call for them, "Ummati, Ummati" (My Ummah, My Ummah).

We all have our ups and downs. The next time you find a friend struggling with aspects of their faith, instead of turning into a preacher, why not be supportive? Sometimes that's what we need as women: a good friend along the way. Allah is whom guides, so leave that to Him. Humble yourself for we want the pleasue of Al Wadud.