Sonnet LXXX.
O! how I faint when I of you do write,
Knowing a better spirit doth use your name,
And in the praise thereof spends all his might,
To make me tongue-tied speaking of your fame.
But since your worth, wide as the ocean is,
The humble as the proudest sail doth bear,
My saucy bark, inferior far to his,
On your broad main doth wilfully appear.
Your shallowest help will hold me up afloat,
Whilst he upon your soundless deep doth ride;
Or, being wracked, I am a worthless boat,
He of tall building, and of goodly pride:
Then if he thrive and I be cast away,
The worst was this, my love was my decay.
Your love was not your decay, fool, it was your stupidity.
In short, you and your obdurateness are your own foe.
And how many fools in love have been their own foe, Shakespeare? Their love is actually madness; it is something, which of an urgency that is hard to comprehend these days, needs to be classified in the medical list of psychiatric illnesses.
Is another human worth so much rife, strife, tears and guns? ‘I shall die if you don’t love me back’, ‘I shall cut my wrists and drown my kitties if you do not return my gaze’, and all such phrases that are used by ‘love’s’ victims that resemble the ravings of someone afflicted with dementia, make me think otherwise.
This is not love, pet, it is ‘a psychiatric illness that needs doctoring’.
The Abode We Live In.
Mai nichi mai nichi
Onaji koto wa kurikaeshi
Kono yo wa….
Kusatteru.
The Japanese above seems like it came directly from my heart. It is a quote from a fictitious show I had watched years back- and it rings in my mind today. It is roughly:
Day after day
The same monotony
This world is surely…
Rotten.
When the world’s monotony is a good sort of monotony- faith in Allaah, love, peace, respect, flowers, harmony, tranquility- it is pleasing to me. But because it is a despicable, macabre sort of monotony with lies, vice, big bad wolves and carnal desires- whether people chastise me for being a pessimist or a misanthrope- I shall be truthful and call it what it is; rotten.
And why not, when the world revels in it’s depravement? You are ugly to me, World, and I am glad I will not live in you forever.
I Have Listened To You So Often…
And each time I have loved you.
It has been reported from the Messenger of Allah SallAllahu ‘Alai wa Sallam, which has been authenticated by al-‘Allaamah al-Muhaddith al-Albaani in his Sahih al-Jami’ as-Sagheer – that he SallAllahu ‘Alai wa Sallam said:
“Indeed Islaam began as something strange. And it will return as something strange the way it began. So give Tuba (glad tidings/a tree in paradise) to the strangers”.
(‘Ghurabaa’ is Arabic for ‘Strangers’).
An Intellectual Necropolis.
My Uncle, a retired archaeologist who taught at Cambridge, asked me to type up a couple of e-mails to his archaeologist buddies when I was over at his place for the weekend.
In one of them, he wrote about the discovery of certain Aryan graves in the native hometown my family hails from.
He wrote about how an illegal exhumation specialist employed by a rich, influential man had come across the Aryan graves and had found in it antimony, bangles, beads, pottery, and other such trinkets that dated back to the Iron Age.
I then asked my Uncle a question. Why are you an archaeologist?
He smiled, and replied back after a little rumination.
‘Well, for the sake of knowledge. All knowledge is beneficial.‘
In retrospection, I remember sneering at such a notion- to myself, of course. Is it necessary to think for more than one second about why such a design existed on a certain 18th century balustrade, or what could be deciphered from the various carvings over pottery discovered from an exhumation? The past- something that has passed and that is no longer of significance- how much has it changed the world?
In short, how has archaeology saved the world over 6 billion homo sapiens call their home?
I would understand if it was actual spiritual or monetary or philosophical knowledge that was being preserved and hunted down so voraciously. But dates and piles of crumbled rock in Akra is not worth spending decades of study on, even if you were a quixotic fool who wanted to pursue every other romantic, nonsensical calling your mind thought of.
You, ye olde archaeologist, are part of that cycle that supports powerful, filthy rich aristocrats who are greedy for more money to uproot graveyards and sell their contents to your museums and establishments. You study things that have never existed– centaurs, kappas, gargoyles and faux religions; what part of your profession will help you when you yourself have to depart from this world; your body crumbled and worn down like the old murals you would meticulously study?
The resurrection is near.
What A Crack May Whisper To You.
Why do bloggers meander on about frivolous nothings that happen during their day?
I cannot confess to say I am excluded from this particular strata of human being, and from the typical failings this class possesses.
I have often had urges to write about a crack in the door (and so I have, if you’ve read one of my older posts), about how queerly my Aunt resembles Lizaveta Prokofyevna in ‘The Idiot’ by Fyodor, about how I bit a smear of left-over chocolate off my friend’s finger today, and about how the maid at my Uncle’s house chose to eat her dinner in the room I was sleeping in; seated next to my bed and peering at me.
Why do the most random things interest mankind? Is it because they have nothing better to observe? Would they write about the gossamer their eye fixed on on an evening of thunder, lightening and rain- ignoring the thunder and turbulence for the flimsy gossamer?
I mean, I almost wrote about how someone I am closely acquainted with paid a rickshaw guy more money for ‘amusing her when he stuck his foot in mid-air for the longest time out of the rickshaw’ the other day.
And really, I have a theory for this. The inner soul of a blogger may not always want to say what is in her heart straight out. She would rather tell you this through parables and enigmas; through cracks and cobwebs and other such trifles– and hope that through them, you can peer through her sangfroid, stoic visage and look into her heart.
Good Morning, Miss Mimsy!
Why, hello there. How would you like to wake up to see something like this in the wee hours of your morning?
Early Morning Eurghness.
I think I should explain why I chose to show you the above image. I woke up today to find that the bus that normally takes me to the hospital, at 7:40-something, for my surgery rotation had just left (the THIRD time this month). I was still in bed, rolling around and refusing to get up because I was left behind anyway. I got up then, in a fit of guilt, and decided to make up for my stricken conscience (some delinquents have a conscience, too; you never know if they’re sheltering lone-lorn kitties in their sweaters on a clammy winter night) by watching a few pathology videos.
The bloke who made the videos, may God Give him the truth, decided that he could use the graphic picture above to sort of freak the heck out of me so early in the morning. I literally had to cover those… hideous gnashers on the screen with my hand. Those black things. To concentrate on the lesions of his tongue (which were also in want of covering, but the topic this professor was teaching was based on those tongue ulcers and swellings).
And do you know what causes these eye-gropers? Mostly smoking.
So all you smokers out there, please stomp on those fags. I don’t want to see that species of mouth in my clinic early in the morning after I graduate, if you please. I’ve had my baptism of fire.
Miss S.
I love your infantile smile, your sprightly laugh, and the way you hug me when I am in one of those notoriously dangerous moods of mine.
My thoughts and love for you is raw; pure and unadulterated. I loved you since the time we were first acquainted and you forced me over to your place, where we bonded through food, make-up and laughter!
You even got a rebellious Miss. Mimsy to study for a quarter of an hour or so, that day, didn’t you? 🙂
You made me watch a movie with you that you were inspired by, and that made you cry. You thought something your baby heart could cry over would achieve a similar effect on a creature like me! I kiss your naivety. And how was it, how was it when I laughed myself insensible at the movie, and that even now I smile over how disappointed you were with me over my reaction?
You entered class today and pulled my unsuspecting cheek while I was listening to the teacher. How much did I adore you then, my bird- I stroke my cheek where your hand touched it and I feel loved!
Oh, how I love feeling loved by you, my sweet amie, my heart!
I love you, Miss. S. I love you for not abandoning me when my heart was weak, and for waiting for me just like the faithful, darling sister you are- and just like you said you would <2.5
Is It Just Me…
Or are there other entities in this world that would like to ninja-trip those grimy, foul and pathetic opposite-gender-members who do not give you place to go up a narrow stair case?
They come thundering down the stairs you’re ascending like they’re fee, fie, foe, fum- knowing that you barely have any place and knowing (perhaps with enormous satisfaction) that in order to avoid colliding with them, you get squashed to the wall next to the stair case.
Forget holding the door to a lady, ‘Mr.Etiquette’. Please do us the favour of moving your fat head from the way next time.
A Little Something That I Read Today That I Fell In Love With- ‘Goodbye Facebook’.
The following has been taken from http://www.alhittin.com:
Having recently deleted my facebook account, I can relate and understand the feelings shared by the sister here in this article. And the poignancy presented is hard to ignore. Facebook and other social networks in and of itself is not haram, but the idea it’s built on, and the beliefs that it promotes is something that’s not acceptable in Islam. For example posting your pictures, and have the opposite sex view it, like it, or comment on it, Subhan’Allah whatever happened to our haya, and those ads with semi-naked women promoting different brands of shamelessness, or those brothers and sisters who copy and paste verses from the Qur’an and the ahadith and argue among each other as scholars, sometimes even vilifying those who do not agree with them. This kind of behaviour is a result of the lack of understanding of Islam, and as long as we are busy, posting, commenting, liking and recommending on these networks, there is no way that we can correct ourselves. The more we involve ourselves in this, the worse the prognosis. May Allah(swt) guide us all to the right path. Ameen.
My high school friends told me about Facebook. Since all of them had an account, I decided to create one myself although I was very nonchalant about my account. I had never displayed my pictures on social sites and told myself that I would not display my pictures on Facebook. But then everybody I knew had their pictures on. So, I started uploading pictures, and before I knew it, I had a million pictures of mine there.
What happened next was that brothers I knew started adding me. I was reluctant in the beginning, but a voice inside me told me to grow up and that it was no big deal. The first comment I got was from a brother I studied with – “Nice picture, Maryam.” What did he mean by that? I asked myself. Was he being chummy? Honestly speaking, I felt so bad when he wrote that comment on my wall, but then a voice inside my heart told me not to overreact and to show some manners so I thanked him.
I don’t know what happened next, but I started following the dunya. The values I stood up for and walked with became obsolete to me. My compromises turned into huge sacrifices. I became so desensitized and immune to the haram that was happening. I forgot that there was a God out there watching me, and I forgot that I was supposed to emulate the best of mankind- RasulAllah salla Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam. Random people would message me asking me for friend requests; they said I was “pretty” and they wanted to be friends with me. I even got some proposals on Facebook- can you believe it! And there were lists of stalkers who kept sending me stupid messages and songs on YouTube through fake accounts in my inbox.
Later, when I had pulled back a bit from Facebook, I stopped interacting with a lot of brothers there because a verse from the Quran kept spinning in my head:
“I did not create the jinn and mankind except to worship Me.” [51:56]
When I woke up from my stupor, I realized that I had become some other Maryam I never wanted to be. I had so many friends, but I was never happy because none of them reminded me of Allah subhanahu wa ta’ala. None of them ever told me that displaying my pictures like that or chatting with random people was wrong and against the sunnah. Shaytan loves spreading promiscuity and hates modesty, and somehow I had chosen to follow him instead of following Allah subhanahu wa ta’ala.
Prophet Muhammed salla Allahu alayhi wasallam said:
“Modesty is part of faith and faith is in paradise, but obscenity is part of hardness of heart and hardness of heart is in hell.” (Ahmad, Tirmidhi)
I had faith, and I was a monotheist. But where was my hayaa, and where were my priorities? I had become a slave of my desires. Islam came to guide man, and here I was in the shackles of my own desires, other people, and the media.
Allah, subhanahu wa ta’ala, has said:
“Have you seen him who takes his own lust (vain desires) as his ilah (god)?” [45:23]
In light of this verse, Imam Al-Ghazali said:
“Those who follow their own passions do not conform to monotheism, because anyone who follows his own passions makes them the object of his worship. The monotheist is he who sees nothing but the One God and only turns his face to Him.”I removed all my pictures and changed the privacy settings of my account, but I still felt that my soul was filthy. My heart was hard. Even the Quran failed to penetrate my heart and didn’t make me cry anymore. I had everything I wanted, but something inside me was dying. It was my Iman. My Iman was suffocating.
I realized that the only way to purify my nafs was to leave things that distracted me. True, Facebook had its advantages, but for me, it was like alcohol; its detriment was greater than its benefit. So I decided to give it up for the sake of Allah subhanahu wa ta’ala. For months I struggled with my decision. It was hard saying goodbye to everyone, but I told them that I would be available by email if they needed me, and I requested them to remove, crop, or blur my pictures from Facebook because a voice inside me said, Maryam your face is precious and only for your hubby to see. Yes, I struggled, and it was hard: I gave up so many things which I feared would not benefit me in the Hereafter. I am still in the process of purifying my heart and always will be inshaAllah because it’s a lifelong struggle. Sometimes, things we do seem good to us, but they slowly poison our Iman.
Sheikh Reda Bedeir said:
“Watch the little things; a small leak will sink a great ship.”You see, sometimes, we have our feet in two separate boats, one which has the flag of our desires on it and the other which says, “I love you, Allah, subhanahu wa ta’ala.” It’s sad how we juggle between what’s necessary and what’s not and prefer what our heart desires over what our Khaliq wants us to do.
Ustaad Khurram Murad said:
“Your Qalb (heart) cannot be compartmentalized. You cannot dedicate one piece of it to Allah subhanahu wa ta’ala and another to some other god, like wealth, status, career, spouse and so on. Allah subhanahu wa ta’ala is One, Indivisible and wants the human being to be undivided in service to Him. So long as our heart lies in a hundred places, so long as our eyes are set in a hundred directions, so long as we have many loyalties, we shall never be able to achieve that condition of ‘holding onto Allah subhanahu wa ta’ala’.”Allah subhanahu wa ta’ala has said:
“O you who believe! Enter into Islam whole heartedly without any reservation.” [2:208]
I want you to know, that if I can do it, then you can too. If you have anything in your heart that perturbs you greatly and it gives you sleepless nights, ask yourself one question: “Am I prepared for my death, my akhirah?” Truth is, nothing in life is guaranteed but death. After deleting my Facebook account and saying goodbye to it for good inshaAllah, I have so much faith in Allah subhanahu wa ta’ala that He will give me a better platform to do dawah, one that will not distract me inshaAllah.
I pray that each and every one of us succeeds in becoming a believing, steadfast servant for Allah’s sake. May Allah, subhanahu wa ta’ala, enable us to be amongst those who purify themselves and help us differentiate between right and wrong, Ameen.
mimsyborogovee 