Morning blues.

She can't cater to this dejection mode always.

We all have that one person whom we point to, to owe our mistakes to. Usually they're mothers.

The socks go missing, the child starts to throw tantrums, the food uncooked or not ready, no updation of the crockery or wardrobe, jobless son; bang! "It's all her fault! She didn't rear them up well!"

Could be true, yes. Some mothers are really pathetic. But I focus today on those mothers who try to be mainstream and couldn't because they never heard it from these nosy population that "habeebthiiii, you can♥"

It is so naive that we as a society take care of the physical sickness more enthusiastically than the mental health care. The poor thing with all her might, could be trying to make a better sandwich but surely there'll be politics within the home, let alone the outside world, on how a bad cook she's!

Agreed, some of you won't take everything emotionally. Some of you might reiterate with a stronger accusation when they're told, "you're a failure!". Some can handle comparisons and are competitive. Some can bathe in sarcasm and still wake up the next day afresh.

For some, these can be a bridge that slide them to the side of pessimism. For some, that'll be the last statement that would make them believe, that indeed they're a failure and can't success in their life. You might have seared a knife info the heart of this dejected individual while you carelessly tossed some rude comments.

Listen. People out there could be depressed and you can never make it out unless you be through that difficulty yourself.

It's a habit that one's neurotransmitters produce due to lack of some vitamins. We're a set of cells and organelles and we function chemically yeah?

That. For some, this chemistry gets messed up and they need to properly be supplemented with healthy nutrients that'll aid these reactions in their body.

I don't want to confuse you with these big talks; but if you ever happened to read this article, do me a favor and be nice to your wives and family. Be a person who'd help someone in stress and anxiety and gift them your energetic smile that would encourage in them a sense of positivity.

Don't be a darned evil individual who messes with an already deranged soul.

Show mercy so that you be shown mercy.

Hey Pretty One.

I remember you as a well covered lad seeking out the blessings from above. You used to be enthusiastic about the length of that kurti and conscious about exposing the shape of your bosom. There was a wedding night ahead on you, when you went on all fours before the mirror adjusting the duppatta to look modest.

What happened to that God fearing you?

Know what?

On some days the way you carried yourself reminded me of Jannah and Jahannam. Made me conscious of the fact there's a Rabb who reward us for our hasanaat and punish us for our sayyi-aat. A text message from you used to be a reminder to fear Allah and to be mindful of our duties to Him سبحان وتعالى.

*How come you sin openly these days?*

No lying, social media overtook me as well. But I see you these days pouting, covering yourself in pancakes, shamelessly clicking your pictures with your college mates, instantly updating whatsapp stories and not being mindful about the harms you're exposing yourself into.

*What's wrong with you?*

Okay, I understand you've only "girls" in your contact list. These girls could have brothers, yes? It takes less than a minute to go screenshot- attach-send, yes?

Okay, fine. She has no brothers. Have you forgotten who're the most severely punished on the day of judgement? Picture makers.

Why, my sister?
Why ?

I heard yesterday two news of death. One was, 24-ish, lost her prematurely delivered little one after her C section. Another died of a heart attack (apparently, الله اعلم) after delivering- she was twenty and the little one should be clueless without the mother.

I ask you, you forgot the Hijaab, you forgot the severity of Jahannam, you hugged and giggled and pulled hands with ajnabi men, who promised YOU a tomorrow?

How many more days would you strut in that tight clothes coloring the wistful eyes of men giving them wet dreams?

How many more days would you dress to please others and forget that there's a Rabb who reward you for observing proper, loose clothing?

How many more mirror trials would you need, Ya ukthi, to imitate the mothers of believers?

I agree, being trendy, flashy, tech savvy and insta freak is all quite exciting. Perhaps you can remember every day when the light goes out at night, the status of the Qabr you'd be put into one day.

Would it be spacious and lit like those of أصحاب الجنة or would it be tight and dark, the likes that أصحاب النار would have?

Think. Change. Today.

May Allah bless you.

My own personal pandemonium.

I forgot how to write.

Today, after a many months, I remember the tip toe down the stairs in darkness to pen down my theorization. Bordered with haram lines, there was this ecstasy that flew in me at the thought of writing my mayhem. It is long gone now; not writing became the habit.

Life is an irony master. Time shall prove you wrong the things that you so really believed. She, The Diary Addict was once a naked truth back in high school; every January first marked her friends shelling out thick paged books, that got her running around getting her friends sign it at the back cover.  Words took into life so easily those days; it was not a hard work. It was my picnic, my happy place. 'The Diary of a Young Girl' which was once a spur, is now a book marked thought that drew a blank.

Since then, her friends list were filtered for good, priorities changed, relationships made- the silly lad has become the woman and has a bun in the oven already, wa lillaahil hamd!

The Petrichor that I felt two Novemebers back is snoring its breath out happily at 1 : 53 am of this Thursday. I mean, life has been good to the one who is talking to you.

So even though the first statement is true, it's quoted with the paint of voice- of contentment and no regrets.

Optimism.

You see different figureheads dime a dozen. Some are believed to be your kinsperson, some colleagues. Fancy is your ripeness if you call everyone to be on your threshold of understanding, implementing and reacting to the world's stimuli.

For instance, you might be a beach person. The thud of the wind against your cheeks might be a reason for you to be euphoric. Nevertheless, the situation you're in might not be that beach loving - your husband might be a bed person (xD), or your in laws might not be so elegant with your running around being on family way. Or perhaps you've pushed out kids that needs to be buckled up. Or any stupid reasons Ya!

Bottom line, yes, you love the beach, the wind and the chuk chuk of the train - this might be a naked truth, but not always you'll be in a locus to irrigate your itching.

Sometimes that craving has to be forgotten, sometimes you can't feel remorse over the couple finding beach visits easy, sometimes you need to count your blessings and direct your location to past beach memories. Or better, future beach visits with a good opportune.

Or perhaps, just go get yourself a good water melon juice and find your happiness in it.

🌼فصبر جميل🌼

Ill - suited.

I would like to be schooled about this somersaulted tale of sliding up and down the mood graph. Tell me, do you as well, when a sad thing hits you, replay ALL the remorseful small events and turn it to a HUGE siege and let the eyes do the sobbing and heart, its aching?

Or could it be my HCG?
There was literally no need for a show last night. Bint Abdul Latheef kept saying "Qadar Allah", "would be okay!" but I couldn't see the three hunger faces forced to swallow down something they despised. It all went up to questioning my ability to raise up a human being- I mean, does this happen to everybody?

Or is it a girl thingy?

Literally, I'm caught with this disease as long as I remember. At some point, it aids in my better-yourself-honey sentiment yes- there has been much decisions made through this emotional breakdown; not pursuing for masters, choosing to not work in clinics, clearing my friend list, and the demands that I was hunting on in a spouse- would be to name a few. Major decisions indeed, glory to Allah, the Mighty and Majestic. I can't pooh - pooh though at the biological trauma it puts me through- sometimes it could even mean 60*60*60 seconds of wailing. The slideshow begins so elegantly, that I really don't need a "action, cut" to joggle from one memory to another.

Two incidents- I would like to sketch them two here so that next time I strife through this, I can come back to this journal to halt it, Allah willing.



Hostel terrace. Tanthas room. My third year bedside.

Knowing myself and the things that I have done and felt in those rusty four years, I grew conscious of my future plans. I kept wondering if I will ever have a closure. Things were so uncertain back then- it still is - that a moment of retrospection would catch me off guard. I had let myself weep and ask My Rabb for the best. The decisions that I have made before was in His disobedience but already, there were many taken to counter claim them- still, there was this fear, always, what if I of the losers? What if none finds me to be a good woman? What if I end up with a forty some guy, who struts at each mistakes of mine?

What if I die and could never make up to my sins?




Night before Nikkah.

That pretty washroom-me was fagged with worries. In some hours, I will be the companion of a stranger who had tried his level best to keep his social media accounts- blunt. I mean, l.i.t.e.r.a.l.l..y I had no idea of this handsome dude who got floored by the proposal. I had NO IDEA though the experience wasn't mutual. Had even had some of my comments by hearted, gawd!

So there was this me, imaging him to be a ferocious man and me a pauper. Then there was this me raising my voice and the counter being so forgiving. Then there is this me being sloppy in the kitchen and in my pajamas. I mean- the reasons are created as the ranting goes on. Kinda like- collecting the reasons to cry. Blotched, head aching, I had an uneasy sleep. Hours before the event, episode two began.

The night that followed was even worse. I saw him first hand as my own and it so heartbreaking to find all my stupid rants to be a joke. The week that followed were all pink pink, all praise is to Allah, the Lord of the worlds.




To summarize

• You need not have any reasons for having a mood swing.
• Even when you visualize the worst possible outcome, your endings can be beautiful. Visualize the worse so that the happiness can be yours : D
• Never despair in the Mercy of Allah
• Cover up your sins with good deeds.
• You can be selfless at times, but never lose your self esteem. You are capable and is here to fulfill a purpose- strive for that.
• The third point is SO IMPORTANT that I'm quoting it again,

Never depair in the Mercy Of Allah

Islamic Tarbiya that is facing the trash can.

I intend yes to make this long for my pain in regards to the topic is an injury understood not.

Oh yes, I'm the one whom you saw evolving. Kindly don't presume though I'm anti education, beloved. In an attempt to exemplify the double standard which a normal parent go through, I may go from 0 to 9 on the scale of satire. May be not satire in actuality; a process of peeling out the skin from you and keeping you gob smacked with the normative in our place; maybe.  

Year one. The Umma and Uppa has gone towards Mummy - Daddy since long. (Come Idrees, he will scream Ummi wa Abi, In Sha Allah! May Allah grant us Tawfeeq).

Year three. Your cup cake will have a graduation on all the nursery rhymes and won the caliber on how to browse the cartoon on Youtube and would have mastered the English alphabets. If you are visiting a toddler, you naturally ask them, "Do you know Twinkle Twinkle Little Star or Chubby Cheeeeks?!! Laudation if she could make it, Ma Sha Allah! The aunties will confront the parents with a "aint she ready for KG classes" worries and "you know Mr His son joined already" terrorizing. The guest would leave the parents on insomnia.

High school he survived. The Muslim named parents are very proud of his tenth scores. They chose that school because it had a reputation- fantastic technology and kept an insist on carrying an IPad to make notes. This is normal, my child needs that, I say.

Twelfth public exams result day, none of the family sleeps. Results release at whatever hour in the clock, they are apprehensive of their pet's performance on this Dunya based exam. It is important- how will he get into a good college otherwise??!

MBBS, B-TECH and other high donation choices are kept before the child. You choose beta! This is your decision, but be careful aah??! No drinking and girls beta! They pack from home, with their phones as their best friends- excited to be free from the four walls set by their family and an extended hostel curfew. AND a loaded Visa card.

In between some time, the parents did try to teach them the Arabic letters. They stutter still- classes got discontinued because the Ustaad raised fifty bucks per month, which is completely unnecessary as I know the Mosque Committee would give him a fixed deposit anyway! Not just five or ten, FIFTY! SUBHANALLAHH!

We have taught them the pillars of Islam and Eemaan and the names of the Prophet's parents. They do pray yes, Allah will forgive our mistakes as He is Ar Rahman ur Raheem, won't He?

His first home visit was a surprise though, but I guess woh toh chalega, because this is how college kids are right? Yes, we got a little conscious to see her phone engaged at midnight but we trust her really- she needed her MUMMY for everything and she would tell if there is anything happening in her life, won't she?

Teach them Tawheed? (Raises the index finger to the sky) La Ilaaha Illallah! Khalas!

Yes, I'm usually tired when I come back from work, so TV is my relaxation plus yes we go for family movie trip once in a month. Yes we know, its haram but that's how we can find comfort right?
Mummy is on whatsapp managing business, she made a huge turn over this year and we bought an X Box ALHMADULILLAH.

....and I'm sorry, but what is Tarbiya?

Yes, I'm that lady whom you saw evolving.

Perspectiveness and judgments aside, I welcome you to the Manhaj of the Salaf us Saalih.

I remember the room I stayed in my third year of college. Mysore was always a beauty with its less traffic and happy winds. The gripe I go through though, reviving the moments spent fruitlessly is real. My bed was parallel to the window sill. I used to keep my double pillows slanted across the wall and watch the green leaves dance in the breeze. When four in the evening approach, that's when Fatty used to lit up in joy. The place where she would place her Prayer mat would have drawings of these leaves from outside. She would sometimes sit on the floor, baking their shadow into her soul. Happiness.

Yes, this is the lady whom who saw evolving. I can't fathom the things I took for granted- free time and health would make the top list. Human nature by default doesn't welcome advices- especially when it is something for which we have gone slaves. Zero is the effort taken to take the naseeha- those who do are my kind of beauties, بارك الله فىكم

 

 

Today, dated 17th of December, I understood that the ones who commit the worst injustice (31:13) can never accept the changes you undergo; they would though if you step out of your clothes- of Haya. I learnt that "friendship" is a heavy coin that I can't just lend to any Sophie or Sarah. That it is an honour you give and take in the name of wishing for good in this life and the next- for abiding to the good and forbidding the evil. I derived from the rains that created the puddle that being proverbial is beautiful- come what may the questions and boos. That for you to be accepted in this Dunya of fitna and fasaad, you need to surf by the tide, if not welcome the accusal of "you are selfish". That the index of their hands would not harm you for your initiations taken for the sake of Allah. That going shapeless and black is hard only with these naïve comments, else it is easy- why would you want to let the world guess the shape of your chest and the curve of your hip anyways? That, fast are the days moving, and those who would matter will remind anyways (as reminders benefits the believers).

I take this course of action, to invite every reader to a religion that tells you, "Every son of Adam sins and the best of the sinners are those who repent".  I invite you to learn this Deen from people who have let their hair grey with seeking knowledge. I insist that if you had reached so far with this article, that you learn The Conditions of La Ilaaha Illallaah (شروط  لا الاه الله) from authentic sites- or better travel to a scholar and learn ( the xx chromosomes could leave a message to me if you are clueless about this sentence). The very few years that you went through has taught you enough to believe that you are mortal- that you will die- that you will be food for the worms one day. How many more reminders would you need to make you think over what you are doing with this 60+ odd years that you are standing perpendicular to this earth?

I know, I don't presume you will have a change over with this article, but I can hope that you don't stay dipped in Ghaflah. That you don't be of those whom Allah subhanawatala has mentioned in Surah Al Baqara of having a disease, of having a barrier for their eyes so that they don't see the Haqq, for their ears so that they don't hear the Haqq and for their hearts, so that they don't understand the Haqq. You did get the call to follow the truth and remember Allah is Al Adl, The Just.

Rectify what is left of your life and Allah will forgive you for your past.