Wednesday, 12 January 2011

The Covering on my Head

I was staring at myself in the mirror, and I think I looked pretty. I looked normal.

There are times in my past when I've regretted wearing the hijab. Now is not one of those times.

The hijab, the convering on my head, is meant to allow women to be judged on their intellect rather than their beauty. But recently, in Western culture, the hijab seems to stand for all these other things. A simple piece of cloth...translated into a massive political symbol.

Since I started my new job, my hijab has taken on a whole new meaning. I'm the only hijabi in the village. Seriously. Suddenly I'm a living breathing example of my religion. I don't think I'm an awful person...but that's a lot of pressure.

I hate the fact that my hijab is such a symbol. Some days I don't want to be a symbol. My hijab is meant to allow me to concentrate on everything else. My work, my patients, my customers. But it's not. The way I look has become the most important thing.

It makes me so sad.

Friday, 7 January 2011

Slipping Away

Mr RedBerries is slipping away. Slipping out of my fingers, away from my soul.

I don't know whether to let him go, or to fight for him.

I want him to be happy. InshaAllah he'll always be happy.

I want him to be happy with me. It's hard that he doesn't feel that too. Or he's fighting it.

I want to fight for him. To tell him, "We're meant to be together. Forever."

Everything in my life is suffering right now. Honestly, after all I've been through, I didn't think I would be in a position where I would be running after a boy. I thought I had protected myself better, but I failed. Once again, my heart is on the line. My soul is being torn. Except this time, I know what the pain feels like...I don't want to feel it again.

My experience is part of the problem. I know the pain, and the heartache. I don't want to let Mr RedBerries go, because I think he's the one for me. Another part of me thinks I just don't want the pain...that I can't handle the rejection. SubhanAllah. We forget how weak we are as humans.

My experience also leads me to think that maybe Mr RedBerries deserves better. Deserves more. Deserves everything that he gives. I don't deserve Mr RedBerries, and maybe he's realised that.


Salaam

Saturday, 18 December 2010

Who is He?

First things first - hijabi sailoress: JazakAllah khair for giving me a kick up the backside and getting me to write again.

I've been so super lazy recently. I started working full-time, which unfortunately leaves me very little time to do anything apart from eat and sleep. Let alone trying to get time to see Mr RedBerries (who is notoriously busy), or update this blog. Although I think the biggest factor contributing to my current lack of blog posts is....**drum roll please**....


I bought a Blackberry.

Yes, that's right, I sold my soul. Bought into the media hype, and the BBM frenzy, and the constant I-must-check-my-e-mails mindset...and got a Blackberry Torch. Gotta say though - It. Is. Awesome. I love it muchly. But I'm nowhere close to hashing out fully blown blog posts on it. Yet.

Anywho, point being:
New BB = less time on computer
Less time on computer = less blogging
Less blogging = :(

Mr RedBerries and I have been struggling to see each other recently. I want to see him. I miss him. Sometimes I wish he was around so I could tell him things. The big issue, is that I don't want to get too attached, and I most certainly don't want him to think I'm too attached. I'm not giving myself away, you know. I get so tired from working five days a week. Weekends I'm just playing catch up with sleep and chores and all those little things that get piled up for 'when I have some time'. I miss my friends who are still bumming around uni, and I miss all the lectures and talks and halaqas that I used to have time to attend, because by the time I finish work they've already started, so there's no point attending late, tired and hungry. When I'm not going to pay any attention and just wish I was home in my pyjamas with some hot food.

Mr Red Berries is SO busy, I don't know where to begin. Like he's obviously got his day job. And studies. Every couple of weekends he's hops off home. Then he's playing catch up with work and study when he comes back. Then he's got Arabic lessons. And Aqeeda lessons. And weekly halaqa (of which I think he attends two). Helping out at the mosque. Tutoring. When he has a moment, he hangs out with his best friends, who he lives with. Somehow, inbetween all of that, he's reading book after book of Islamic knowledge, building up his crazy library of knowledge.

Like I said, he's a bit intimidating.

I think we're struggling a little. We want to see each other, get the wheels turning so to speak. But it's so difficult, when our timetables matching up is a complete nightmare. The more we delay, the harder we make it for each other. InshaAllah I would like a decision quickly - it's not to good to draw these things out you know - **sigh** if only it wasn't so difficult.

I'm not sure if that's a real update, or just me letting off some steam. Khair, I'll give you guys some juicy gossip soon.

Salaam x

Sunday, 14 November 2010

Secrets Secrets....

I have a secret. BUT. I'm not allowed to tell anyone. Mr RedBerries has told me not to tell anyone.

Shucks.

He's not ACTUALLY Mr RedBerries.

In my head, I think of him as mine.

If his name gets mentioned in conversation, I'm thinking.... He's mine. All mine.

It's a shame that at this particular moment in time, he's not technically mine.

People know we're friends, and sometimes they ask me about him. Or they'll tell me an anecdote that involves him. Or just randomly I start thinking about him.

They don't know that I know him so well now. We've talked about here and there and everything in between. The past, the present, the possible futures. The what ifs, and the maybes. The cars, the houses and the babies.

I worry that some things are too good to be true.



Friday, 5 November 2010

Give Thanks

I've had a hard couple of years before this one. Allah SWT tested me. And I struggled. Hell, you guys know, I'm still struggling. But back...about three or four years ago...I thought the whole world was ending. I couldn't imagine a future where I would ever smile again.

Overly dramatic? Perhaps.

All I know is that I went through some of the hardest moments of my life. Sitting in the dark, crying my eyes out. I can't explain the emptiness I felt inside. Like someone had carved out my insides and left nothing behind...and the pain...it physically hurt. My chest used to contract...sometimes I couldn't breathe.

Alhamdulillah. I never did that thing where I questioned why Allah was punishing me. For starters, I knew it was all my fault...but more importantly, I knew that this was written for me somewhere. I never saw it as a punishment, but rather a result of my own actions. My own sins.

Khair, that's all in the past. Although it wasn't an easy experience, nor one that I would wish upon anyone else, it made me the person I am today. And I quite like the person I am today. :P

This post isn't about all the awful things that happened to me a lifetime ago. I just had this epiphany yesterday, and I wanted to share with you guys.

SubhanAllah. We are nothing by specks of nothing next to the might and will of the All-Knowing, the All-Powerful. Everything that happened to me back then, it makes me appreciate every single thing I have right here, right now. Not just my material posessions, but my friends, my family. Places I've been, people I've met.

Sure I suffered before, but right now, the All-Mericiful has granted me so much support and so many life lines...should anything of a similar nature happen again (which it almost did), then it wouldn't be so hard this time around. I am so thankful to my Creator for this. I am thankful that my Rabb has been so gracious to me. He's shown me the darkest of the dark...but he's also shown me the light. I don't care if that's a cliche metaphor to use. It's true.

I've been though so much, not a lot can faze me anymore. SubhanAllah. Allah pushed me when I was young, and now I'm stronger than I've ever been, Prepared for what life is going to throw at me.

I pray that I never forget to give thanks.

Sunday, 31 October 2010

Intimidation

I mentioned last time that this fellow...this chap...this love-of-my-life...intimidated me.

There was a strength of Iman, a firmness of faith, a trust in the Unseen, that I had never quite experienced before.

I still find it intimidating.

Now strange things are happening to me. I mentioned before that I struggle to get my prayers done. I've struggled for some time to make time for them in my daily schedule Astaghfurullah. I know how important they are. Some days/weeks are really good, and I feel happy that I'm back on the straight and narrow. Then I'll have a busy couple of days....I have to choose between going to bed or praying Isha, or being late to dinner with my friends or praying Maghrib...and **poof**...just like that I'm back to square one. No prayers for a couple of days until I shake my brain out of limbo and go get my wudhu on. Some days, I do Wudhu, and then decide I ain't got time to be holy. Shaytaan has a strong grip on me :(

For a while, I've contemplated a prayer buddy. You know, someone who could pester me politely to make sure I'm praying on time. An individual who wouldn't mind giving me a quick call in the morning to make sure I'm up for Fajr. But I don't know who to ask. It's a pride thing. How can I tell my friends that I'm struggling at one of the five basic foundations of my faith? On the Day of Judgement, I will be asked about my prayers. All this knowledge still hasn't developed enough fear in my heart to go and just pray.

The strangest thing is, I get the urge to be regular with my prayers a couple of days before I have my monthly blackout. Which is frustrating, because when I want to pray, I can't. I'm not using it as an excuse. I know I'm appalling.

During my most recent attempt to get myself into the good books, I sat there, trying to motivate myself. Giving myself all the usual reasons. And then I start thinking, "If you marry him, then he'll expect you to be praying."

Subhan'Allah.

I didn't expect my brain, my conscious, my pride to play such evil tricks on me. Now I struggle more. Not so much to pray. But because I don't know the intentions behind my prayers anymore. Am I just developing this habit to impress someone else?

I don't want to. I don't want to be praying for someone else. First and foremost, I'm sure that's some type of Shirk, and secondly, that's a rubbish reason to pray. I want my prayer to develop for the love of my Lord. I always thought that by the time I got married, I would be the person that I always wanted to be. Right now, I'm not that person.

Sunday, 26 September 2010

A Little Clarification

I feel my last post needs a slight clarification.

The dude I was speaking about - he asked me if he could ask my dad's permission - and although I felt it was highly unnecessary (because, ya know, he wasn't about to walk me down the aisle or anything), I did let him. Because like I said, I didn't want to get in the way of his good intentions.

So he got permission from my parents to talk to me and stuff, and we've had a couple of semi-chaperoned outings. By semi-chaperoned, I mean that my brother was there for half the time, then decided to conveniently vanish for a while.

So, twas all halal.

And I'm taking a step back right now, because we haven't really had any contact since the beginning of Ramadan...and I'm re-evaluating.

Because I've been thinking.

Maybe I'm not ready to get married. :S