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Stingy Trust

Expectation is the root of all heartache.
(William Shakespeare)

We are told to see the best in everyone; Not to judge people before we get to know them;People are fundamentally good so treat them kindly and they will in return be good to you.

These advice in and of themselves are good however the world and the people in it are not so black and white. You can get stabbed by the people you love only for someone you hate to treat the wound. Humans are not fundamentally good, we are all born actors. A child learns by imitation:repeating the actions they see and hoping that’s what people want to see. Human beings are but self-serving creatures prepared to do everything it takes to portray them in the best possible light.

Joseph/Yusuf had his own family literally sell him into slavery but a stranger saved him . If his story is not a cautionary tale on the danger of misplaced expectations I don’t know what is. Relationship tags mean nothing if the person hasn’t earned it. Someone being your Sister, brother, best friend, father, mother, aunt, uncle, cousin etc should not award them an automatic VIP section in your heart and life if they haven’t done anything to secure that place. Be kind to your heart and authenticate whoever is to enter: make sure the residents of your soul will not leave it destroyed in their wake.

For there to be betrayal, there must first have lived in its place trust. Be stingy with your trust but generous with love;expect the worst from people but be open and ready to accept the good when it comes. Should anyone say you have trust issues, tell them your soul demands to be protected at all costs.

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Grafted plant

We once laid
feeble and stagnant
on nursery beds

Slight sprouts
we emerged
from split seed

A grafted plant
we stand, eternally bonded
from pot to pot. From soil to soil.

Together
a tree
profoundly majestic

The concept of soul mates has always fascinated me. It is very comforting to believe that there is someone for everyone: created just for them, two halves of one soul. It is not for me to say if soul mates exist, there is no certain mode of deducting that. I am however unbelieving that I have one. I know someone is coming for me but I do not think he is my missing half; I do not have a missing half. I am whole.

The one for me is the one I shall bond with, graft on so I can stand stronger, higher and greater than I could have on my one. I will not be weak without him, but being with him will increase my existing strength. I don’t have a soul mate, I don’t have to complete me but I have someone coming who will dilute me and together we will be stronger, brighter and sweeter.

Future husband, Marriage,, Poetry, Uncategorized

To the future Mr. Hafsah

Dear you,

I sit here on the second day of September hours after dark thinking of you as I always do. Hello Sweetheart. Guess what I learnt today? Are you guessing? Oh! You are hopeless at this game. I’ll just tell you. I learnt who you are. Or at least who you would be to me. According to three reliable sources you would be my polar opposite who would share absolutely nothing in common with me and with whom I would have to resort to creating mutual interest. Now that’s not so bad. You would love me, support me, cherish me, provide for me, and protect me. Oh my god! Could you get anymore awesome? Apparently not, because you would in addition and simultaneously treat me like….s**t but like in a ‘good way’ in the ‘Islamic way’. You would control me, occasionally rape me if I ever have the audacity to deny you what is ‘your right’, you would on occasion or regularly treat me like a slave to remind yourself you are a man because apparently looking inside your pants is not enough assurance. Like a prison warden, you would also dictate and restrict my actions and movements. You would be my head and I your submissive docile tail, just happy to follow in your lead. I also would probably never be able to satisfy you and as it is in the male nature to be polygamous you would give me the amazing gift of as many sister wives as you religiously can. Did someone say husband goals? Run to me daddy.

I think not

Sweetheart you are the love of my love, my soulmate. The perfect stranger created just for me and whom I would love with every bit of my body and soul. I would live and die for you; I would worship and cherish you. I would be your wife, your slave, your whore. I would be the cat that sits purring at your feet and the tigress that tears up your sheets. I promise I would be everything you ever and could ever want: but only, if you’ll be the same for me. Sweetheart I love you so very much but I love Hafsah more. I don’t know you yet but I know Hafsah. She has lived in me for 24 years. I have felt her die and resurrect ten thousand times, I have seen her break and rebuild ten thousand more time. Hafsah has bleed and she has cried, she has loved, she has lost, she has had the people she taught were family kick and spit on her when she fell. But Hafsah…Oh that beautiful child… she gathered everything she had, everything she was and rose. She rose through the punches and the kicks, the spits and the stones, the hate and the pain, the suffering, the heartbreak. Hafsah rose and she kept rising till she took her place in the sky. So now she is there: the brightest star. And though I love you, never doubt that, but I love her more. I love her too much to let anything, anyone, blanket her glow. So if you would only do that: stay away.

But if you would help her glow, if you would feed her light and adorn her with the love she deserves: please hurry up and make it to me. I have no list of requirement for you, I only ask one thing: true, pure love. Give me this and I will give you my heart. But Please be careful with my heart, she is a brittle beast: a precious porcelain I painted steel.

Poetry

The war within

A Warrior on the battlefield
She stands with her sword drawn
Ready to kill
In this war one must die
Or all will die.
The fight between who she is
And who she should be
There they are
Shouting and stabbing
Kicking and pulling
Each sings its battle song
‘The world is cruel child, assimilate’
‘No. let your kindness dilute the earth sweet girl’
They beg that she listens
They demand that she choose
But how can she decide the voice to obey
Who to be
How to be
How can one be kind when one has only known cruelty.
How does one judge hate when one has never felt love.
The warrior thrown down her sword
She decides
No part shall dies
Every part shall live
She will be both
Who she is
and
who she is

I pride myself in being authentic. I am completely transparent. I understand that in this world you have to hide the best part of yourself so as not to lose all of yourself but I refuse to do that. If there is a part of me fragile enough to die from exposure, I’d rather it be dead and leave room for the stronger parts of me to wildly flourish. I guess it would be easier, more rewarding even, to ‘assimilate’: be one with the world and massacre my authenticity at the altar of societal acceptance. Or perhaps I could ‘be kind’ like my mother and holy book tells me to. Be like the prophet and the angels: the perfect Muslim girl. It has afterall been guaranteed to make Life easier and heaven secured. I can’t be either of these persons because I despise these persons and I am both persons. I am like everyone but unlike anyone. I am a juxtaposition of opposing complexities so incredible. I am broken: I am whole. I am strong: I am weak. I am open: I am closed. I am glorious: I am hideous. I am everything: I am nothing. But the beauty of it all is that in spite of all these, because of all these: I am Hafsah.

Islam, Religion

DO WHAT IS BEAUTIFUL

Beauty is one of the few words in the English language that has innumerable subjective meanings. Yes, most dictionaries describe beauty as the quality of having physically and/or emotionally pleasantly attractive features. Humans feel and view things differently depending on their sociological, environmental, psychological, religious and cultural makeup. There is no set standard for beauty: beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Anything/anyone can be beautiful so long as they are plesantlty attractive to someone just as anything/anyone can be ugly so long as they are repugnant to someone. By this logic, there is no such thing as universal beauty or ugliness.

Yet in the Quran, Allah demands that we:

‘Do what is beautiful; Allah loves those who do what is beautiful’ Surah Baqarah 2:195

What are beautiful actions? Beautiful actions are good deeds: actions that are pleasant to behold and receive. With beauty being subjective how can one know for sure if one’s actions are truly beautiful? Good intentions are not enough as ‘the road to hell is paved with good intentions’. Something intended to be a kindness could very easily be produced and received as evil. What irrefutable cannon determines and measures the quality of beauty in an action? Does it even exist or are we doomed to assume and hope we are acting beautifully?

Indeed this Quran guides to that which is most suitable and gives good tidings to the believers who do righteous deeds that they will have a great reward’ Surah Al Isra 17: 9

The Quran is the one-size-fits-all guidebook to doing what is beautiful. The sunnah is the template you must follow and the hadith are your cheat codes (a collections of prophet Mohammed SAW’S monologues that explain the how, when, where and why of doing what is beautiful).

We have revealed to you this book as clarification for all things and as guidance and mercy and good tidings for the Muslims’ Surah An Nahl 16:89

Amongst the many examples of beautiful deeds, the most frequently mentioned are:
• Humility
• Fairness
• Respect
• Honesty
• Kindness
• Empathy
• Acceptance
• Love
• Forgiveness
• Purity
• Patience
• Hard work
• Charity
• Self-control
• Worship

These are the universally and, most importantly, eternally accepted forms of undeniable beauty. Islam can’t be bothered with a concept as fragile and fleeting as physical beauty: the Quran makes no mention of the value of physical beauty because it has none. But any Muslim that can encompass these listed attributes is the most valued, priced and beautiful of all Allah’s creation.

Islam, Religion, Uncategorized

To You Your Religion and To Me Mine

The Quran is not reader-friendly; Islam is not a gated community.

No one and no one has monopoly on Islam, it is a religion that welcomes every race, gender, nationality, culture, orientation and character. It is a religion that says: come in and drown into my warmth your troubles and you will pull out peace. This is a religion that is all welcoming.

There is no such thing as an ideal Muslim (The prophet (saw) is an impossible act to follow), we are all just doing our best and relying on Allah’s grace. Because no one can unhypocritically declare themselves as a perfect Muslim: no one can or should decide who a perfect or ideal Muslim is.

All Abrahamic religions require 100% faith dictated by a holy scripture that has been interpreted by their respective religious scholars. The truth is there is no irrefutable proof that any religion in the word is the right one: if there were religion won’t require faith, because faith by definition is the undying belief in uncertainty. The holy books that are to serve as guides are ambiguous and easily misinterpreted which gives way to a scary thought: what if all this time we have been doing it wrong?

That is when our faith comes in, molds hope and begs God for grace. Judgment, hate, intolerance and prejudice have to be thrown overboard to make room for love and community on this testing voyage of uncertainty. We are all sinful servants on errands for our master, our sins may vary but ultimately we are the same: the nerve of us to reject our fellow servants and falsely accuse God of being the reason for our hate. ‘No one speaks for God, not even the prophets (who spoke about God).-Reza Aslan

This paragraph is going to start out a bit controversial but please bear with me: ISIS, ISIL, Al Qaeda, Boko Haram and similar terrorist organizations are emboldened and justified by Quranic texts ( hold on to those death threats and curses for a moment let me explain). Like I said at the start of this post the Quran is complex and Islam has a revolving door, unfortunately some of those that come into Islam underestimate or are unknowing of the complex, metaphorical and allegorical nature of the Quran. They selectively pluck out verses from context and display them as vindication for their heinous crimes.

We should definitely, by every means available decry terrorists and their actions, and make it clear they do not represent Islam and its principles. However, it is not only false but it is dangerous to categorically deny their twisted validation because it is the lack of full and accurate Islamic education that makes terrorist recruitments to easy. Scholars should spend less time denying the existence of seemingly controversial and complex verses in the Quran and instead spend more time correctly interpreting them.

Terrorist, murderers, rapist, abusers and all perpetrators of dangerous crimes are the obviously faux Muslims the Islamic community should reject not the: LGBT; non-hijab wearing; alcoholic; gambling; sex-positive; nonconformist Muslims just minding their own business and being the best Muslims they can be. They are not the ones we should disown. We should welcome them, preach to them, pray for and with them, love them for the sake of Allah and leave them to their religion as we live with ours. Let Allah do his work: judge them.

If someone says they are a Muslim, believe then, but should they dangerously misquotes or misinterpret the Quran, correct them. It hard enough being a good Muslim all on our own: let’s not be burdened with others’ religion.

Poetry

A Constellation of Me

IMG_20180731_004730_536.jpg
I fold cycles into stars:

dim; bright.

I hang them boldly

in the shape of me:

a constellation in my image.

And the stargazer will look

and he will say

‘Oh how divine! A majestic collection of misery’

I don’t make birthday wishes, I make birthday reevaluation. I consider the changes I’ve made in the past year and quantify the gains and losses: most times than not the scale have tipped in favor of loss. Year after year I promise myself ‘This is your year Hafsah’ but year after year it never is.
This year I started a new birthday tradition: pride. This year I decided to be proud of myself for everything I did and everything that was done to me. I reveled in the blessings and curses of the past year, I embraced all the scars and all the kisses, welcomed the monsters with the angels and i displayed my pain alongside my joy, I completely and with exhilaration emptied myself and I can say with absolute conviction that this year is my year. Not because something amazing is going to happen but because something incredible has happened: I am here.