Beautiful Imperfection

Coffee stains my porcelain cup as ink spills on to this neatly penned page. Blotted with unease, spilled with grace; what’s permanent and imperfect is not always flawed. Imperfection clings to me and yet it frees me. I feel liberated from straight lines and boundaries. I seek bold images and lasting impressions. Like the art that remains after one sip, my words scramble and rearrange into paragraphs enclosing my thoughts. The white of my paper and the white of my cup create a contrast of who I am. I am flawed; I am imperfect—take a sip of my words.

We are Ants

A small hardworking ant: so minuscule to the human eye, yet so vital in its natural functions. A player on a large team, but an individual in its survival. Most of the time, we too are ants-so carried away with the busy work, the day to day tasks, the collecting of things, so busy that we often can’t see the big picture. Like ants on a beautifully designed carpet, we scurry on not knowing that we are walking on beauty, simply because we cannot see the full design yet. It’s important we take a second and look around: to remember the destination and to remember that where we are is truly beautiful, in the present moment and in the greater picture…if we just took the time to reflect. So don’t just hear what's around you, listen. Don’t just look, see. Be a hard working ant, but remember you have the capability of looking at the big picture.

Ego Amongst the Dead

Narrated Abu al-Darda: “Worship God as if you see Him, and count your ego amongst the dead, and beware of the supplication of the oppressed." (Quoted by al-Tabarani) In this hadith, we can learn a wide variety of things varying from conquering the ego to detaching from the world and its desires. In the first line we see what is described as “ihsan” or worshiping God as if we see Him. This level of spiritual excellence is not something easily achieved. In order to see God everywhere, one must not see oneself anymore. This means, we must extinguish our concupiscent desires and detach from the world in a humbling manner. Only by eliminating our egos and remembering our graves, can we begin to journey on this path towards “ihsan”. Before reaching this level, we must perfect the levels before it. Preceding “ihsan” are the levels of “Islam” and “Iman”. Islam involves the basics: practicing the five pillars sincerely and testifying that there is no God but Allah and that Muhammad (pbuh) is his Messenger. In order to reach “Iman”, a deeper degree of acknowledgment is required. “Iman” is to believe in Allah, His angels, His books, His messengers, the Last Day, and to believe in divine destiny, both the good and the evil thereof. In all of this, the Muslim is aware that life is a test: that we will be held accountable for our actions and that the Angels on our shoulders record all of our deeds. The level discussed in this hadith however, is the highest level of spiritual excellence: worshiping God as if you see Him. This means you are aware that although you do not see Allah (swt), He sees you.This is the level of righteousness, the level of perfection, the level of doing and saying the ultimate good, the level of I'hsan. As Muslims, we must always strive to reach this level of Faith. And the easiest way to do so is to detach from the world and “count our ego amongst the dead”. By doing so, we forget our selfish desires and we focus on praising the One who created us, the One who sees all that we do. Whoever purifies his character will extinguish jealousy, hatred, greed, anger, pride and all the other maladies of the soul from his heart. Once the heart is pure, it will illuminate all that you see and do. With the recent events in Syria and all over the world, many have asked, “what can I do?!” and “why is there so much hate?” Eliminating these evil things, believe it or not, starts with you. If you want to eliminate all that his dark in the world, cleans your heart until it is able to provide light for the darkness and hope for despair. If you want to eliminate the hate in the world, start by loving for your brother what you love for yourself. Dua is a powerful tool that can help you reach this level of “ihsan”. We must remember to pray for the oppressed, detach from the world, and purify our hearts from impure desires…surely then we will find peace.      

Submission

Eid Al-Adha is an important time of year where we as Muslims honor the willingness of Ibrahim to sacrifice his only son Ismail as an act of obedience to God, before God intervened to allow him to sacrifice a sheep instead. We all know the beautiful story, but there is so much more than knowledge that we can attain from this story. The story teaches a multitude of lessons and demonstrates ideal qualities of pious Muslims that we should strive to imitate. Indeed it was the greatest test for Ibrahim: to sacrifice his only son, one born to him after reaching old age and longing for a son for a very long time. Even with that, Ibrahim demonstrated willingness to sacrifice all his belongings to God out of faith and humility. This same submission can be seen in Ismail. After being told the news from his father, Ismail, the pious son of a pious father, was committed to submit to God and give up his own life. This is true faith: to trust Allah in all circumstances in life for He always knows best. This story is the epitome of true trust and submission to God which hundreds of Muslims try to live by. So as we go about our daily lives, there will be times when we don’t want to give things up because it may seem difficult. There will be times when the future will scare us and so we cling to the past. By learning to submit to God in all circumstances of our lives, we learn that in the end, God is the best of planners. If what’s ahead scares you, just remember Allah(swt), the Most High, and go forth in your path with confidence. Give up the worldly desires and submit to God alone, the One who gave you life and continues to help you live.  

A Look in the Mirror

Imagine if mirrors never existed. Imagine for a second that a reflection of you was never seen–such that cameras were never used and when you saw that image in the water, it was never you. Imagine never knowing the appearance of that three-dimensional figure that encompasses your inner thoughts, desires, and dreams. But you wouldn’t be alone. Mirror mirror on the wall, wouldn’t exist for any or all. The only reflection you or any would have, is each other. To keep you in check & to point out your flaws, your friends would be mirrors. Your actions would be mirrors. Your thoughts would be mirrors, and your life; your life would be the ultimate masterpiece made by pieces of your everyday glass, finally mirroring who you really are. Then you will see. You will see that it never mattered your reflection, but what you reflected to the world.

Today, I got lost.

Eyes on the Destination.

Today, I got lost. It rarely happens these days for us to get lost while driving, but my GPS has been stolen 2 times and my cracked pantech can barely send texts properly. And so, it was just me and the road. When I was first learning to drive I actually used to get lost often...and although I don't get lost as much now I noticed I still do something similarly every time I get lost. I keep driving. I don't pull over and look around. I don't ask anyone for help. I don't stop and think. I just drive. And I get more and more lost. And now that I think about it, I can't help but parallel this to our journey in the dunya. It's easy to keep going on the same path, to ignore the fact that we're lost and continue driving. It's easy to miss those "exits" that are placed so perfectly to help us get back. It takes effort to make that stop: to realize where you are in the world and turn around if you have to. So today I learned that sometimes you have to take your foot of the gas, remember your destination, and just turn around.

“And He found you lost, and guided you” 

[Quran | 93:7] 

Our Forgotten Brothers and Sisters

We hear the name once or twice and we see one or two images on Facebook, but do we really understand the unspeakable tragedy that the Rohingya Muslims are facing in Burma? It seems however, finding information about the crisis is very difficult as there is a flagrant inattention by many news media outlets to the heartbreaking tragedy occurring in this region. Without a doubt however, and as the UN claims, the Rohingya Muslims are the most persecuted group of people in the world today. But how did this happen, and what exactly do the Muslims in Burma face on a daily basis?

To start, Burma (or Myanmar), is located between South Asia and South East Asia bordering India, Bangladesh, and Thailand. The population is about 52 million people with the predominant ethnic group being the Buddhist Burmese followed by those of the Islamic faith which number about 10 million people. The country achieved its independence from Britain in 1948 but power was then transferred to the Burma Socialist Programme Party. Eventually this party was replaced by two councils the most recent being the SPDC or “State Peace and Development Council” which ironically was not very successful in restoring the peace and easing the already growing tensions between many ethnic groups. This regime, the SPDC, is widely accused for its human rights abuses against many of these groups specifically those living in Rakhine State—the state in western Burma with the largest population of Muslims.

Now that you understand a little bit of the history, it’s important to visualize and comprehend what exactly the Muslims are facing in Burma as a result of laws set by Burmese Buddhists. The Muslims in Burma are denied identity cards; this means they are not considered citizens. Despite the fact that their forefathers have lived there for centuries, the Muslims in Burma are constantly faced with intimidation, abuse, interrogation, and military violence. Imagine that–living in country that not only does not recognize you as a citizen, but also constantly terrorizes your land and your family. Hundreds of villages have been destroyed and burned and over 90,000 people have been displaced from their homes. The Rohingya are banned from traveling freely, marrying freely, practicing religion freely, having healthcare, obtaining jobs, pursuing higher education, obtaining motor vehicles, and even using a mobile phone! It’s safe to say they are being stripped away from their freedom and are placed in a state of constant oppression.

There is still hope.

Many have attempted fleeing to Bangladesh, but it seems they are being rejected there as well. Countless families have taken leaking boats to sea in an attempt to travel across the border, but are ultimately turned around by the military and forced to return where they are not welcome. Several families have told stories of even being attacked at sea without even making it back. All this has been happening while the international community remains silent to the atrocities. Burma won’t let in independent observers and information is scarce about the situation, but that does mean we should turn our backs to the most forgotten and persecuted people on the planet.

Although a new government took over under Mr. Thein Sein in March 2011, the Parliament is still largely controlled by the military-backed ruling party. At this point, dialogue, generosity, and prayer are of the few ways we can help those fighting for their rights in Burma. First and foremost, spread awareness. Tweet about the cause, share videos, and inform those that are unaware. Knowledge is the first step to action. Secondly, donate. Visit RescueRohingya.com and contribute what you can, any amount can make a difference. Lastly, pray. Pray for all those oppressed to gain their freedom and live in a state of peace and equality. Pray for the truth to prevail and remember to never ignore injustice, wherever it may be.

Peace: the destination and the means.

Photo taken at Walk for Children of Syria in Chicago.

So often we hear the word peace. The struggle for peace. So often we see the V sign symbolizing peace–raised proudly next to a smiling face or firmly in the face of oppression. Can peace be felt and grasped or is it a lingering intangible that always lies at the end of our quests? Will peace stand the test of time or will time test the peace that remains? Is peace the expression of love and harmony itself, or is it the outcome, the result, of hope and justice. To me, peace is both. Peace is the struggle and peace is the fruitful yield. Peace is the visible smile and the silent invisible joy of a relaxed heart. Peace is the destination, but peace is also the means. For love and truth to prevail, we must have the goal of peace in mind. And as we travel on this road to peace, we must join hands in the struggle, shake hands in the agreement, and raise the peace sign in that moment when we reach it. That moment of peace.

100% cotton vs. 100% faith

Alhamdulillah I have been hijabi for about 5 years and I simply can’t imagine my life without the hijab. I have to admit though, when I first wore it I didn’t completely understand why. I knew my mom wore it, I knew my older sister wore it, but most importantly I knew that Allah (swt) had commanded it…and that was enough for me. It all seemed pretty easy until my freshman year. I wrapped one of my favorite scarves as best as I could (I’m still learning how to wrap it lol), and headed off to the bus stop with my sister. It all seemed normal until we came on the bus. We were the first stop to come on and the last stop to be dropped off every day—so everyone knew who we were. I went to Hinsdale Central High School with over 2,000 students and at least 400 freshmen. Of all those 400, it was me and one other who wore the hijab to school. For some reason though, all that didn’t matter.


The hijab somehow gave me a sense of humble confidence. When seniors would stare at me on the bus, I would smile back. When asked by my own teachers “why is it you have to wear that again?” I would simply reply “I don’t HAVE to, I WANT to”. And that alone would leave them speechless until they would be able to return to their questioning. As the years passed, I began to gain more and more appreciation and understanding for the hijab. I began to realize, it’s not a 100% cotton cloth that you wrap around your head; it’s a declaration of what’s IN your head. In Islam the mind of the Muslim is his heart. When you understand the knowledge and beauty behind the hijab, it becomes engraved in your heart and you can’t help but declare it in the form of modesty.


As the years passed, I eventually noticed that the answers I would give my peers were answers I needed to hear myself. Anything I said out of instinct I realized was what I needed to trust all along. There was an instance where I had one teacher that constantly would question my hijab in a joking manner. One day he said, “Sarah, you’re very outgoing why do you have to wear that?”, as he made a circular motion around his head. I told him that in Islam, women are treated like pearls, shielded by a covering and protected from the harms around them; they are not what they appear to be. He simply laughed and told me, “You have a way with your words Sarah”. I wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or not but I smiled back. Whether I changed his perception of the hijab I’ll never know, but I know for one thing that the experiences I’ve had that are similar to this have made me stronger. And whether the impact I made is big or small, I know I am making people THINK.


By senior year, you could say I was more social than necessary. I made many friends and almost all of them respected the hijab very much. The thing with hijab is, it makes you unique. Some might argue the contrary that we are all conforming to a way of life but the truth is–this way of life is what gives us freedom and individuality. We are judged by our actions, by our words, and not by our physic. By following Allah’s commandment and being a slave to his rules, we gain the freedom of ourselves. It’s a very powerful oxymoron that I find very beautiful. I am still a work in progress and there are many things that I can improve in myself, but I know from experience that hijab can truly make you stronger, I realized that when I found out hijab isn’t 100% cotton, it’s 100% Faith.

The Path

Photo taken in Miami, Florida.

For every destination, there is a path. Your path may be different than mine, but somewhere along the way, we may cross. Eventually, the people we encounter, the friends that we make, and the relationships that we build will leave prints on our journeys. Although it may sometimes seem that we are fenced in by the ritualistic aspects of our daily lives, there is choice in the steps that we take and there is opportunity for success behind every quest. Follow those steps to your ultimate destination.

The Bean

I am the Bean; people from all over the world smile at my curves. I am what they are, but I am also me. I show them the world and I show them what they are. Sometimes, though, I see the world in them. At some times during the year, snow falls and covers my face. Somehow though, someone comes and wipes that snow away: opening for me a new day to see new smiling faces. I see the world in black and white for I do not discriminate. I see the city to my right, the sky above me, and You looking in.

Islamic YOLO?

Ride on any roller coaster at six flags this summer 
and you will most likely hear teens and kids alike 
yelling the phrase “YOLO” representing the infamous motto “you only live once”.  
A couple years back the phrase “carpe diem” was more 
common, meaning “seize is the day” in Latin. 
Why do phrases like this become so popular over time? What 
is it about the idea of living in the moment that many are so 
infatuated with, and does Islam follow this similar approach 
of focusing on the present? According to Dr. A’id al- Qarni, our 
life’s span is but one day, as if we were born in it and will die 
at the end of it. As Muslims, we should live our lives with this 
attitude in mind. In contrast to the irresponsible actions many 
use the excuse “YOLO” for, Islam teaches us to not merely use 
the “day for living” but instead teaches us that we should be 
“living for today”. Specifically, we should organize the hours of 
the day so that we can make years out of minutes and months 
out of seconds. In this way, we are taking this temporary day 
that is given to us and giving it life, rather than the other way 
around where we are simply finding activities in this world 
that can make us “live”. 
How exactly do we “live for today” or give life to our 
many repetitive days? The answer to this question lies where 
many other answers are, the heart. As narrated by Anas ibn 
Malik: “There is a piece of flesh in the body; if it is purified the 
whole body becomes pure but if it gets spoilt the whole body 
becomes spoilt, and that is none other than the heart” (quoted by Al Bukhari). 
If we use the days given to us to awaken 
every part of our heart by the remembrance of God, surely we 
can then succeed. If we wake up in the morning not expecting 
to live until the evening, we will find ourselves giving priority 
to our actions and obsessing less about the past. We will pray 
with a more wakeful heart, recite Quran with more understanding, 
and remember Allah the Almighty with full sincerity. 
This Ramadan, try and live with this mentality. Fast 
everyday like it is your last. Be conscious of every day and how 
it passes and be refined in what you do. With this attitude 
you will profit from every moment, develop and expand your 
abilities, and give life to your day. Leave the future alone until 
it comes to you. With that, the next time you’ll hear someone 
yelling “YOLO”, you’ll be able to smile to yourself knowing that 
you also “only live once” but just in this world. 
You’ll remember your duty to your Lord and you’ll remember to embrace 
today to remember God in order to make your next life better.  
You’ll remember Jannah and all its rewards and you'll focus on the path ahead with a sincere heart, inshAllah. 

The Hour Glass

Elegant, graceful, and silent
The grains of time drop like never ending rain
No amount of desperation can stop the precipitation
of such a delicate and timely creation
Piling up one by one in the same location
Never thinking twice about their destination 
We can all make our own explanation,
with just the use of our imagination
But in this situation, there is no room for realization
Time will flow with the same acceleration
No matter how we interpret this information
So listen to this hour glass and its personification
Not asking for any appreciation
Just your acceptance to trust its navigation
Into the world of time.
Where the grains climb and climb...
and climb.
So, build your sand castle midst the grains
Pile high your hopes and dreams
Stand out among the identical stones
and conquer your mountain of fears 
Be the hour glass and count your time
For you also could be stopped
if He were to not flip your hour glass
to start once again.

Drip...Drip...Drip

Silent Solitude

A month ago, my grandparents came to the United States to stay with us for a while. They are originally from Syria. They have lived all their lives in Syria. It’s where they grew up, it’s where they raised my mother, and it’s where they want to return. When they were here, I noticed that they rarely talked about the situation in Syria. They usually sat and watched the news with my dad, and my grandpa would occasionally make a remark here or there about the unfair rulings of Bashar. For some reason I imagined that when they came here they would use every given right to curse out at the regime, but they mostly watched the videos with saddened faces. One day, I decided I wanted to show my grandma one of the videos that showed the streets of Homs filled…filled with chanting men and women all demanding freedom. I was myself too intrigued in the video, the voices were captivating, the fervor was eminent and the courage was radiating. While I was watching the crowds jump up and down, chanting eloquent verses…I expected my grandma to comment. But nothing. I waited a while, and then I looked at her face from the side of my eye. I could see a tear streaming down her face. I could see despair in her eyes. I could see sorrow. I could see fear. But I could also see hope. I pretended I didn’t notice her crying as to not make her uncomfortable. She then raised her hands to the sky and prayed to God that he protect the innocent families. Slowly I felt the tears drop down my own face. This was my grandmother’s home. This was my father’s childhood. And now I was watching it burn in flames…from my ipad…in my house…in America. I then realized why my grandparents didn’t always curse out at the regime. It was because the story was in their heart. They knew that talk was cheap and that passion was stronger. They knew that God was greater. They knew that time is not on the oppressors side. Syria was in their hearts not because it was simply “their people”…when my grandma made that prayer that day, she prayed for all the oppressed. All the hungry. All the poor. She felt it in her heart. And we must feel it in ours. Then, we will be heard.

One Year Ago: Syrian Revolution

One year ago I barely knew where Baba Amr was. I used to think people liked Bashar. One year ago, I didn't really know the true meaning of what it meant to be free. Now, as a whole year has passed since the revolution started in Syria, the streets of Baba Amr will always be images etched in my mind. Bashar will remain a worthless animal, and freedom will forever be something I appreciate, after seeing how courageous the Syrians were in order to achieve it inshAllah.

Freedom Diaries (Tunisia)

Dear Freedom,

Now that I lie here in my simple grave outside Sidi Bouzid-surrounded by olive trees and blossoming almond trees, I want you to know how much I longed for you. Slapped in the face and forced to the ground, just to keep my family sound. Fined without reason, as if I were committing acts of treason. Everyday i'd walk to my cart, five kilometers to the local mart, in hopes of living my dream-even though my clothes were ripping from their seams. Everyday I dreamt of change, but all I knew of change, was of the small amount I kept in my pocket caged.It was all so strange. What an unfair exchange, and so I set myself in flames. To burn away my rage and humiliation, to feel your powers in my nation. 
Oh freedom, call me Mohamed Bouazizi and remember me.


From the Soils of Tunisia

Freedom Diaries (Egypt)-Feb.11 Commemoration

Dear Freedom, 

I feel so ashamed. Everyone saw me and yet they don't know me. To the whole world I was exposed, my rallying and modesty now juxtaposed. My "abaya" ripped open and my heart as well, trampled on like the very ground to which I fell. As women and as humans we asked for equality and freedom of speech, to that they dragged us down in hopes of making them farther to reach. You can call me the "girl with the blue bra" but remember, there is more to my story that put you in awe. Oh freedom, you were my shield when I was exposed. You gave me strength to battle rules that were imposed. Maybe someday we can reunite, with hope as our light and to the mountain peaks our flight. 

Love, 

A Woman's Voice in Egypt 

Faith and Hope

The Syrian regime has killed babies. It has starved families. It has blown up mosques. What it doesn't realize however is that God is not confined to the mosques, He is in the heart of every believer. Nothing can take away the Faith of the people. And that is the strongest weapon. Marching at one of the rallies downtown side by side with my brothers and sisters, it didn't matter that I couldn't feel my hands or feet because I COULD feel something that was truly beautiful: the love in each heart that chanted for a free and peaceful Syria. And that love and determination is what will create change, InshAllah ♥

Dear Freedom (Libya)

Dear Freedom,

I still have nightmares. Sometimes I close my eyes and see darkness. Not darkness due to lack of light, but of days where there was no hope in sight. Of days I spent in Abu Salim Prison dreaming only to see an inch of sunlight. Slash marks etched on to the rigid walls, symbolizing all my days behind these bars. Gun shots as my morning alarm--sitting here, unarmed, tell me how I stay calm, when wanting freedom leads to my harm? Just a victim, just a number. Oh freedom, how I dream of you in my slumber: your gracious wings and beautiful smells, your radiance shielding me from all the bomb shells. It was on that day that I was freed, that day after I saw my country bleed, that I finally planted my hopeful seed. Qaddafi had fled, he and all his greed. Oh freedom, you were right...God IS all I need.

Love,
A Grateful Libyan

Holding On

Today I took my little sister to the store to pick out any toy she wanted. We went through endless isles of dolls, talking Doras, dress up games, singing microphones. Even I found myself distracted and curious. I tried suggesting ones for her to take but she had this interesting look of determination in her eyes. It was until she found a Repunzel doll that she yelled, "that one!" After the doll was in her hands, it seemed like nothing around her mattered anymore. Here we were in this colorful maze of toys yet it was like she became blinded to anything that wasn't what she had in her hands: the thing that made her happy. She focused on what she was looking for from the start, and then she told me, "let's go home". To me that taught me a valuable lesson. Sometimes life is filled with things that we want, things that tempt us but we must keep our eyes on the true prize- the thing that will make us truly happy in the end. We have to grab it and never let go. We have to take it home. And that thing is Faith.

Dear Freedom (Syria)

Dear Freedom,

I went to school today and my friend beside me was gone. I tried assuring myself that to a better place he had moved on, but the tears without my control left streams on my face forever drawn. At night I sleep to the pleas of my mother, the crying pains of my brother, and the gun shots fired one after another. Silence now as my loudest scream, I close my eyes in hopes to dream, of something besides this horrid scene. There was just one incident that gave me hope. That one day that we chanted out in the streets, caring less who might hear our freedom beats. That day where I held hands with someone I never knew, because we both shared that same dream of you. Oh freedom, when the echoes of "AMEEN" struck my heart, I knew we could never be apart. Standing in that crowd I saw hope, as me and my fellow brothers held on to that rope. I saw a knot we could untie, a voice that could reach the sky, and a joy manifested in tears...flowing from my eyes.

Love, 

A Hopeful Syrian Voice 

اللهم لك الحمد بالايمان ولك الحمد بالقرآن ولك الحمد بالاسلام ولك الحمد على نعمة الحمد ولك الحمد حتى ترضى ولك الحمد اذا رضيت . اللهم انك ترى ما حل بنا فلا تعاملنا بما كسبت ايدينا ولا تعاملنا بما نحن اهله ولكن عاملنا بما انت اهله فانك انت اهل الرحمة والمغفرة . الله انا نشكو اليك ضعف قوتنا وقلة حيلتنا وهواننا على الناس ياأرحم الراحمين . أنت رب المستضعفين وانت ربنا, الى من تكلنا, الى قريب يتجهمنا ام ا...لى عدو ملكته امرنا . من لاعراضنا غيرك يالله ومن لاطفالنا ياالله ومن لشيوخنا غيرك ياالله ومن امهاتنا واخواتنا غيرك ياالله, ومن لحمص غيرك ياالله ومن لسورية غيرك ياالله , اللهم مالنا رب سواك ولكن عافيتك أوسع لنا ,نعوذ بنور وجهك الذي أشرقت له الظلمات وصلح عليه امر الدنيا والاخرة من ان يحل علينا غضبك او تنزل علينا سخطك ,لك العتبى حتى ترضى ولا حول ولا قوة الا بك .