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.