There was an old lady…

Back when I was in grade seven (not too long ago), our school was selling chocolates for a fundraiser. A friend and I decided to sell together and decided to take my younger sister along as well (cuteness factor). We were going to go to a couple of floors in our building until we sold out  (long shot) or got tired. Whichever came first.

We knocked on one door and elderly lady opened the door. She looked to be about 75-80 years old. White hair, wrinkled skin and short stature, she welcomed us in. She was wearing sunglasses. We told her we were selling these scrumptious chocolate covered almonds to raise money for something (it was quite a long time ago).  She kindly listened to us and said she doesn’t eat chocolate. Perhaps some kids or grandkids she would like to buy for? No. But she wouldn’t let us go empty handed. She went to grab a little coin jar and set it in front of me.

“You see, I can’t really see very well, that’s why I have these glasses on”.  Oh, that made sense.

“How much did you say the chocolates were?"

Two dollars for the box.

“Here each of you take a toonie and a loonie for the little darling.”

She pushed the jar towards me and I took five dollars from it.

We left with big grins on our faces. We got money and we could eat the chocolate ourselves. What more could we ask for?

I don’t know what spurred it, but I was thinking about her the other day. I didn’t at the time, but I wonder now. Why was she living all by herself? I remember the quiet calmness of her apartment. Where was her family? Why had they left her all alone?

I never thought of it back then. But perhaps I should have visited her again. Just drop by and say hello. Sit down for a spell and have a chat with her. Tell her about myself and ask about her. Ask her why she was all alone? Ask her what she did wrong to deserve to be left alone by all her loved ones when she needed them most. Not for chores and cooking…but just for company. Someone to remove the silence of her home.

And as I watch Heemu busy at play, I wonder if perhaps the same may happen to me. He turns to me every time he needs something, will he turn away when I’m in need of him.  He doesn’t like it that I busy myself with anything other than him. Will he, one day,  be too busy to even think about me.

What do I have that this old lady didn’t? Something that will encourage my Heemu to care for me when I’m in need of him. Allhumdulillah I have Islam. And the importance of being kind and caring towards your parents which is stressed by our deen. In trying to lead by example, I must behave towards my parents the way in which I would like for him to behave towards me. I should show compassion, patience, love and kindness when dealing with them. And I have du’a.  I pray that my offspring is kind and caring. I pray that he (and if Allah wills, any others) is righteous and steadfast on his deen. May Allah (swt) bless them and protect our children from the fitan of this duniya. Ameen.

“Rabbighfir lii wa liwaalidayya wa lilmu"miniina yauma yaquumul'hisaab, Rabbirhamhumaa kamaa rabbayaanii shaghiiraa."

O Lord, forgive me, my parents and Muslims in the Hereafter. O Lord, show mercy on them as they have nourished me when I was young.

Love, for the Sake of Allah (SWT)

There is someone out there, right now, thinking of my son. And she loves him probably just as much as I do. Someone I haven’t known long and don’t know very well. Someone who I used to see around the mosque when she was a little child. This wonderful little girl would always have a little shy smile on her face. Big dark eyes would meet yours and two little dimples would appear on her cheeks, one on each side. Back then, she was just a little cute kid and I, a busy student who could only spare a fleeting smile.
After I got married, I moved away. My visits home were few and far in between. Eventually, S. and I left the country for 6 months and when I came back I was expecting. Most of my time was spent in Toronto.
I was going to deliver at my parent’s house. My doctor was in Waterloo and so there were lots of frequent visits to the city. Often at the mosque I would see her. It had been almost two years and she was older and taller. But she still had the shy, dimple embellished smile. Focused on the new baby, I was still pretty aloof with her. To me, she was a good little Muslimah with a cute little smile.
Ibraheem was born on the 7th of Ramadan. Still more than half the month to go and not wanting to be home alone with the baby, I was often at the mosque for taraweeh prayers. And this little girl, became a good companion. She was there, waiting at the door, ready to help me carry the bags and car seat to the basement. She sat right next to Ibraheem’s seat, stroking his hand and just gazing. There would be other kids too. All awed by the cute little baby boy…but long after they had left, she would still be sitting and stroking.
And then, when Ibraheem was about four months, we moved to KSA. We went back in the summer, the time was divided between Toronto and Waterloo. A regular at the masjid, we would see her throughout the day. And she would just be around Ibraheem. Holding him, chasing him, playing with him. During taraweeh, it was such a blessing to have an extra pair of eyes and hands to keep a look out for Ibraheem. And he was quite the handful.
I started calling her his special little friend. Because she was. Always there at the door of the mosque, waiting. Ready to help carry the bag or the baby down to the basement. Playing with him, sitting with him, feeding him… she was just so good with him. And when he started recognizing her, Ibraheem would be super happy to see her as well. She was the perfect older sister, the perfect little baji.
Ramadan was over, the moon had been sighted. And we were going back to Toronto for the remaining days before heading back to KSA. I felt sad when we said our last good byes. She said, “I hope he doesn’t forget me”. I assured her that I would remind him of his special baji and we’d stay in touch, Insha’Allah.
I still don’t know much about her. Our topic of conversation is always Ibraheem and his antics. I don’t know the little things; her favourite colour, what she likes to read, what her hobbies are. If  asked, I could barely muster a handful of facts about her. But all I know is that she loves and cares for my little baby.
Not because she’s related and she has too.
Not because my baby is the cutest little thing.
Not because there aren’t any other little babies, more cute and well mannered.
Not because she hopes to gain something from me by showing affection for my son.
No, she loves him for the sake of Allah.  She feels the same pride I do when I tell her about all the milestones Ibraheem has reached. She truly and sincerely cares. And in this world where everyone is looking to benefit from someone somehow, this unconditional love from an almost stranger is unheard of.
And so little girl with the shy smile, cute little dimples and big dark eyes…I love you for loving my baby, for being their for him, for being his special baji. I love you H. for the sake of Allah (SWT).
As Ibraheem gets older, he won’t remember all the loving hands and hearts that hold him close and care for him. If Allah wills and I’m still around when he’s able to understand. I’ll tell him about his infant and toddler days. And all the hands and hearts the cared for and loved him. Especially his special little friend.

That’s all that matters.

The best view for me is the one without my glasses and Ibraheem seated on my lap, chattering away. For my farsighted eyes, everything else is a blur except his handsome face.
The sparkle in his eyes and the dimple on his cheek when he smiles, just melt my heart. I cherish his pearly whites, peeking at me whenever he opens his mouth and the feel of his little fingers tracing the landscape of my face.
“Eyes”.
A soft poke at my closed lids.
“Nose”.
A little, gentle push with his index finger.
“Mouffff.” (He still can’t make the ‘th’ sound)
His finger slowly traces my lips and as I smile, he touches my teeth.
This is when nothing else matters.
Not the clutter of his toys, strewn all around the living room.
Not the cookie crumbs sprinkled like sand on the carpet.
Not the untouched pile of books that are supposed to be read before the summer vacation.
All that looks hazy and bleary.
The only thing in focus is my son. And that’s all that matters.
As he crawls out of  my lap, bored of his biology lesson, I thank Allah for my farsightedness. Grateful for those precious and blessed moments, when everything else is a blur, except for his face, inches away from mine.

What have I done?

What a long way we've come, from those days of carefree fun.

The days when there was no worry, no rush, no panic, no hurry.

When we lived in the moment, no fear of what is to come.

The days of youth, how solemn they've become.

We've realized our mistakes, and tried to make amends.

Realized that every stick will break, if, too far it's bent.

We've shunned old habits and idle talk.

We've finally learned to walk the Prophet's walk.

We've stepped into our Mother's shoes and understood her worries and woes.

We've accepted that we're humans, created to do sin.

Striving to suppress the shaitan within.

We've acknowledged that with open arms Allah awaits,

For His true believer to make haste.

Before the time comes when time will be no more.

When the hearts of whom we leave behind, will be sore.

When two sheets of white will replace our glamour and galore.

When for the questions we're asked, we'll have an answer, none.

Then we'll ask "What have I done?"

Nothing left behind and nothing to look forward to.

The dynamics in the Middle East are changing ever so quickly. Tunisia has kicked off a revolution of sorts. I am glad we were able to visit Jordan, Syria and Yemen and see first hand the state of these countries under the current leaders. The tourist venues and places of interest were very well maintained and clean. But driving around the countries, there were many areas that were badly in need of repair.  It was quite clear that the wealth is not distributed evenly through out the two countries. There was hardly any middle ground between the posh and impoverished. It makes you wonder how these people are able to live in such deteriorating conditions for so long. No wonder they've pounced on this opportunity to bring about change. And now, when pro-Mubarak protesters are ruining the peaceful protests, the army is encouraging the people to go home. Go home to what? A dark home and no food on the table? To a life that will be no different then the one they just left behind? To days of boredom with no job or goals? These people had nothing to occupy themselves and they came out to protest for lack of something better to do. Social bums created by  the 'leaders for life', finally standing up and demanding their rights.

Yay for wireless!

Allhumdulillah we found this really good wireless provider, Zain. I can't believe we didn't know about it before. They should really have a welcome package for the new comers here and have all this information in there. (Hmm...that's a eureka moment..) So we had this extremely slow cable net connection which took forever to download. We also have VOIP so it was always conflicting with the sound on the phone. Unfortunately this new wireless doesn't have a connection for the VOIP. I think we might just downgrade the cablenet and keep it just for the phone. But yay for wireless! I feel so mobile and liberated. And we don't have to worry about the half a dozen wires protruding for underneath the desk which Heemu loves to pull! Allhumdulillah!

I think this place is finally starting to feel like home. It only took like about a year! I guess because I know that we're not going to live here permanently, that thought made the transition much more delayed. Last year, I was anxiously waiting for the summer so I could go back home. This year, not so much, because I feel like I'm home already. Allhumdulillah, I have a really good neighbour right next door. We're always making random visits and sharing food. Plus I'm keeping busy with some other friends during the week as well (shopping trips, playdates, cooking dates, initiating a book club of sorts as well). I'm going to the gym and hope to Insha'Allah join a tajweed class too. My mind is too occupied with things to do to remember that I have to go back in the summer.

Plus I have started making some pleasure buys to make the place more homely. Well at least the kitchen. That's the one place that Heemu can't tear apart. Once Ibraheem gets a little older, I'll dress up the family room as well. Right now it's very bare but very baby friendly. We got the place furnished so not having had the satisfaction of decorating myself may have also added to the 'hotel-like' feeling of the place. But I've started jazzing it up a little, started giving it my own special touch. I've started 'owning' the place. And that has helped to make it feel like a home. But in the long run, when I think of settling down, I don't see myself here. My idea of home will always be Canada. That's where I grew up, that's where I spent a good chunk of my life, made many good friends and captured so many memories. If Allah wills, that's where I would like my children to grow up as well, Insha'Allah. 

Rain, rain..

A couple of weeks ago we had some rain here in Yanbu. Allhumdulillah! It was such a beautiful experience. There was a certain calm in the air, as if everything was just anticipating that first drop of rain to fall and quench an eternal thirst. We went for a drive after the rain, the neighbourhood was glistening and smelled so nice. The sun was peeking through the passing clouds and the vegetation was blooming anew. It was beautiful!

However, it is also a cause of concern when it rains. Because rains are so rare (1-3 times a year), the city is lacking in a proper drainage. You'll find huge puddles on the road and in the neighbourhoods. A bigger worry is the possibility of your roof caving in. My neighbour's roof caved in last year, this year it was leaking again. The drain pipes were blocked by leaves. So as I enjoyed this bounty from Allah, I also kept an ear and eye on any unusually dripping in the house. Allhumdulillah, there was none. Needless to say, I got my roof cleaned  ASAP!

Slowly...slowly

It's been a while. A very long while. Things have been so hectic since we got back to the Kingdom. Ibraheem had a tough time getting adjusted to the significantly reduced number of people (5 to 2) catering to his needs. Slowly, he got used to hanging out with Mama and Baba. These past couple of months, Ibraheem also achieved many milestones. Walking, talking, parroting, and he has a good set of vocabulary now as well. A mix of English, Urdu and Arabic words. 

Sajjad has been busy with the college. As for myself, just busy being a Mommy and wife...I wouldn't have it any other way. Allhumdulillah! I've done lots of experimenting withe new dishes, recipes to follow, Insha'Allah. And some have failed but most were a success. During the Hajj break, we took a trip to Jordan and Syria with another family friend. Insha'Allah I'll write about that experience in the next entry. Right now...have to put Ibraheem to sleep. It's bed time...and most probably, I'll be asleep before him.

Back in Yanbu

Assalaam-u-Alaikum,

We're back to Saudi, Allhumdulillah. We've been here for almost three weeks now. I've just been spending my time getting things organized. SubhanAllah! The thick layer of dust that greeted us when we walked in the house. Wow! And the jet lag...getting in to routine seemed to take forever. It's amazing, when I went back home, there was no jet lag for me. I was just so super excited and happy to be with family again. I did not want to waste that time sleeping. But, here...it's a different story altogether. Even Heemu's sleep was so messed up. Allhumdulillah, we're back to some sort of a routine.

It's happy hour for me. For once, in over three weeks, I have some 'me' time. Heemu is asleep and so is S. Tiring day for him today. But that means I have the computer all to myself...no sharing. ( Yes, yes, his work is more important than my blogging *rolls eyes*). And of course, Heemu wants to be a part of everything you are doing. Every time I sit at the computer, he's right there with me, wanting to climb on to my lap and type away. This generation I tell ya! I didn't even know what a computer was until I was a teen. And here, quoting my mother in law, "he's born on the laptop"!

The vacation went by so quickly. And with Ramadan, Allhumdulillah, the last month went by even faster. We all thought that the days are going to be long and tiresome. But with Allah's blessing, there was so much barakah in the days. Even the hot days went by so easily, Allhumdulillah. However, once the month ended, I was extremely saddened. I realized that these wonderful days, where the most of the community made the effort to come for prayers at the mosque, would be no more. The droves of people that showed up for taraweeh prayers and especially within the last 10 days, would not be seen till next year. In Ramadan you really feel a sense of community and belonging. Unfortunately, it doesn't last the whole year through...limited for some only to Fridays. Allhumdulillah for the 30 days of bliss. May Allah (swt) strengthen the iman of our ummah and make us righteous and pious Muslims for the whole year... for a whole lifetime, Ameen.

May Allah (swt) put barakah in all that you do for His sake.

Umm Heemu

Homes Sweet Homes

Allhumdulillah! We're back in Canada. Actually, we've been here for just under a month now. I have been so busy with family and friends that I didn't even get a chance to open the blog. We've just been travelling back and forth between Richmond Hill and Waterloo with pit stops in Hamilton, Niagara Falls, Mississauga and other little towns. I can't believe that the month is almost over! Time goes by so quickly! SubhanAllah!

Heemu is more mobile and loves to touch everything. He loves to do everything (read: take over) you're doing. Be it eating, cooking, cleaning or blogging, he doesn't want to miss out on the action. For the past couple of months, I've had very brief moments with the laptop. Just checking e-mails, responding to some, checking the news, paying some bills...and then Heemu wants at it. So blogging took the backseat for a while. But Allhumdulillah, here I've lots of hands to keep Heemu busy or away...so I can get back to the things I miss; like reading a book or doing my nails or like today, blogging. Allhumdulillah for the extra help. I am definitely going to miss it when I go back to Yanbu.

Ramadan is just a hop, skip and a jump away. May Allah (swt) give us all the strength and courage to make the most of this blessed month, Insha'Allah. They days are going to be long, but Insha'Allah, with Allah's help will get through it. It's always such an exciting time for me. It's like you're waiting for the arrival and beloved guest. Preparing and cleaning and cooking! It's such a blessed time. We should try to make the most of it, Insha'Allah. Don't forge to increase you ibadaats and make lots and lots of dua! May Allah accept our worships, Ameen!

Ramadan Karim!

Summer Daze

Allhumdulillah, just a little over a month before we go back home, Insha'Allah. We're missing the family. And as the weather gets from warm to boiling...the memories of mellow Canadian summers beckons us. How beautiful the days must be! It's funny, I talk to the family  and they say, 'It's so hot!" Oh? "Yeah, it's like 27C today!". Yeah and we only managed to reach a high of 44C in the afternoon.

After almost four months here, I finally discovered that you can actually borrow books from the little library at the gym that I go to. Allhumdulillah for that. And so I've spent my fasting days leisurely reading. The fasts are not so bad, Allhumdulillah. The days go by really quickly. I try to get the cooking done in the morning and whatever cleaning is needed is done after Isha. 

Heemu is more mobile now. He's doing this dragging, slithering, crawl-type forward movement. It's given him the ability to get to places where he shouldn't be, like near the wires. Rolling is still a favourite past time... he managed to roll off the bed the other day. Talk about a wake up call! His upper two teeth are pushing out. I am looking forward to a toothy smile, Insha'Allah.

I've finished my shopping and almost finished my packing for the return trip. Can you tell I'm excited? I don't like leaving things for the last minute. I think I'll wait till it's exactly a month left to start the countdown Insha'Allah! 

Random Acts of Kindness and Love

We went to Medina this weekend. Allhumdulillah, it was a really good trip. Usually we just take a day trip, this time we decided to spend the night. I love going to Medina, it's always nice to see Muslims from all over the world in the Prophet's (pbuh) city. The different attires reflect the diversity of our Ummah. It's always a pleasure to see our fellow brothers and sisters from all over the world.

Walking around with a baby, you're exposed to a different treatment from others. Some one will help you up or down the stairs. Others will give your baby a little pat on the head or a brush on the cheek. And some even give kisses. And others offer candy (he's too young to enjoy it so I happily indulge!). These beautiful interactions show the kindheartedness of our ummah. Of course, Ibraheem, being a very friendly baby, loves to socialize and soaks in all the attention he's getting.

 I guess mostly when they see him, people are just thinking about their own families, kids and grandkids back home. But it's really nice of them to encourage his inquisitive stares, random smiles and ooohs and aaaahs. It's times like these that you feel a sense of belonging and pride for the ummah. The united front of a global family, where the children are treated like your own. No one is afraid to reprimand a child hanging a little too close to the railing and to smile and nod at another who's curiously observing (and touching) his surroundings.

 A friend said that she finds the people of Medina to be very gentle and kind. Why wouldn't they be? They're living in and visiting the home of the very man who was the epitome of kindness. Just the humility of being in the same place where the Prophet (pbuh) once lived, is enough to humble any heart.

Crazy Urges

I have a new crazy urge, I wanna learn how to sew. My mom is an excellent seamstress (in my humble opinion) she's been making all sorts of dresses since I was a baby. Even now, she's sending me some summer suits, JazakAllahu Khairun Mamma. When living at home, I never bothered to learn this important skill from her. She would sew, I would take care of the housework and study. Enjoying a brand new suit (much to my dad's chagrin  and later, my hubby-ji's : "you already have so many, why are you wasting?" they say-true... but they clearly don't understand the female mind (luv you Pa-Jaani..please continue reading my blog in spite of this new post...please!) in exchange for washing some dishes and brooming...not a bad trade off!

Now, I have this urge to sew. I wanna make these really nice designer, modest outfits and present them to the world. My new attempt at expressing my creativity (or lack there of). This comes after my urge to crochet (I've sort of mastered the chain thanks Umm Humza!), knit (still trying to figure out how to hold the needles ) and bake designer cakes (don't even bother to ask how I mutilated the brownies today!). But, Insha'Allah, over the summer, I'm going to make a special effort to learn something from Mama. Even if it's how to put a thread in a needle...


P.S. I over exaggerate, I can do that  the thread into a needle thing...err..most of the time

Greater then a Mother's Love

Ibraheem had a cold the last couple of days. Coughing with phlegm, runny nose, fever and crankiness, he had it all. It was his first, so it was very hard on him…and more so for me.  It was hard for me to see my baby suffering. Unable to tell me where it hurt or what I could do to make it better, his helplessness made me cry. I am told that for new  mothers, the first bout of sickness is very, very tough. It's very true, I experienced it firsthand.

It's amazing how much love and tenderness a mother shows to her child, especially when he/she is sick.  The constant waking at night to check his fever, to pull the blanket a little higher, to comfort him with your touch, to ensure he's eating properly, giving medication on time…and then after all that, questioning whether what you've done is enough. Or is there something more you could do to make his aches and pains go away.

But we forget sometimes, that all that occurs is from Allah (SWT). There is hikmah  in everything, big and small, significant and insignificant, that is way beyond our comprehension. And even this, the sickness of a child and the mother's care, has some hikmah and opportunity for betterment that we're unable to identify. I've come to realize that there is only so much I can do, for everything is in the hands of Allah (SWT).  I can pray for Him to help me be a good wife, a loving mother, a dutiful daughter, a caring sister, a dear friend and most importantly a pious Muslimah; however, the ability comes from Him.   And so I prayed, and I did my job as a mother and He took care of the rest. His mercy and love has no bounds; His caring does not falter when there is shortage of sleep or abundance of fatigue. And when I dose off, He's still there, along with the angels, taking better care of my baby. 

Have I got food on my niqab!!!

It was a lovely day today. Partly cloudy with a nice cool breeze. After spending an hour doing some intense work out, we decided to give little Ibraheem an outing. We took him to the beach, it was such a beautiful day...the perfect day to enjoy an ice cream cone ( I saw a kid walking around with one and my worked out body craved for one too; so much for the work out). So being the 'your wish is my command' type of a hubby that S. can be sometimes, he kindly walked to the little hut and bought two strawberry-vanilla cones. Oh, how yummy they looked.

 As S. passed the cone to me, I started to panic. How am I supposed to eat this cone in public while wearing a niqab? Did I mention it was a beautiful warm day? The cone started melting and trailed slowly down my fingers. I had to eat it fast. I lifted my niqab and slipped the cone underneath, generously smearing the fabric of my niqab with the delicious cream. A couple of licks, and I realized there was no way I could do this with dignity. I took a seat at the bench, and tried to quickly work my way through the cone, which was now dripping pink and white on to my all-black abayah (oh so visible!) My hubby, seeing the condition I was in, quitely commented "for once, you're more of a klutz then I am" (oh? was it that obivious?). I quickly finished my cone, most of which was shared with the fabric of my niqab and some with my abaya (how generous I am, I share with my clothing!), and rushed as fast as I could to the nearest bathroom. I washed my niqab and wringed  it as best as I could. Allhumdulillah, it was a lovely, warm day and the niqab dried pretty quickly.

Later that night, S. got a call from one of his colleagues.
"Saw you at the beach today!"
S.: "Oh, yeah we were there for a bit"
"Yeah we were going to come meet up with you, but you were heading the other way."

They must have seen my mad dash to the bathroom...ooooh..niqab and ice cream cone not a very good combination indeed!Never, ever again  will I indulge in public! Next time when I have a craving, I'll make sure to take my niqab in to consideration!

My Cup of Tea

Recently (like in the past two days), my love for tea has renewed. I used to be a big tea person before marriage. Thanks to Mama, I would drink at least three, steaming mugs a day. However, after the wedding, the addiction just sort of faded away. S. isn't big on tea, he's more the cappuccino type. A Medium french vanilla from Timmies.

The other day, I had some friends over for a potluck and decided to make some tea. Right after having asked everyone if they would like some, I realized I didn't have any milk (real smart, huh?). I did what any good hostess would do, I improvised. I had some evaporated milk on hand so I decided to use that instead. And boy, did that tea taste good. The next day, I found myself making a cup of tea in the middle of the afternoon, rationalizing that I had to use up the left over milk. But when I added "evaporated milk" to the grocery list, I knew I was hooked.

So here I am, my third cup of tea for the day in hand and am thoroughly enjoying it. It's just not the drinking, I enjoy making the tea as well. Heating up the water to a light boil, adding a cracked cardamom, then the tea bag. As the bag releases it's colour and the water comes to full boil the smell of the tea is so tantalizing. And then you add the milk to get that beautiful creamy colour, and let the mixture come to a slow simmer. It's such a soothing task. But as I take that first sip, I'm reminded of those moments of sharing a cup of tea with Mama and Aunty (after the wedding). It would be just our time, to sit and chit-chat. The last 8 months or so, I spent with my husbands parents, Aunty and I would have our cup of tea in the late afternoon. It was downtime after the morning chores and before the dinner rush. We would enjoy some chocolate chip cookies or whatever sweet snack was at hand with the tea.

Reflecting on it, I don't think that it's the actual tea (although the caffeine kick does help the grogginess), so much as the memories it brings back. The wonderful times spent with the two most important women in my life. A remembrance of all the conversations and discussions we would have. And a deep longing to return and make some more memories with them while indulging in a cup of tea. (Insha'Allah)

The Story of the One-Eyed Mother

Son's Statement:

" My mom only had one eye. I hated her"... she was such an embarrassment. She cooked for students & teachers to support the family. There was this one day during elementary school where my mom came to say hello to me. I was so embarrassed. How could she do this to me? I ignored her, threw her a hateful look and ran out.

The next day at school one of my classmates said, "EEEE, your mom only has one eye!" I wanted to bury myself. I also wanted my mom to just disappear. So I confronted her that day and said, " If you're only gonna make me a laughing stock, why don 't you just die?!!!"My mom did not respond...I didn't even stop to think for a second about what I had said, because I was full of anger. I was oblivious to her feelings.

I wanted out of that house, and have nothing to do with her. So I studied real hard, got a chance to go to Singapore to study. Then, I got married. I bought a house of my own. I had kids of my own. I was happy with my life, my kids and the comforts. Then one day, my mother came to visit me. She hadn't seen me in years and she didn't even meet her grandchildren. When she stood by the door, my children laughed at her, and I yelled at her for coming over uninvited.I screamed at her, "How dare you come to my house and scare my children! GET OUT OF HERE! NOW!!! "And to this, my mother quietly answered, "Oh, I'm so sorry. I may have gotten the wrong address," and she disappeared out of sight.

One day, a letter regarding a school reunion came to my house in Singapore. So I lied to my wife that I was going on a business trip. After the reunion, I went to the old shack just out of curiosity. My neighbors said that she died. I did not shed a single tear. They handed me a letter that she had wanted me to have.

Mom's Letter:
"My dearest son, I think of you all the time. I'm sorry that I came to Singapore and scared your children. I was so glad when I heard you were coming for the reunion. But I may not be able to even get out of bed to see you. I'm sorry that I was a constant embarrassment to you when you were growing up. You see........when you were very little, you got into an accident, and lost your eye. As a mother, I couldn't stand watching you having to grow up with one eye. So I gave you mine. I was so proud of my son who was seeing a whole new world for me, in my place, with that eye."

With my love to you, Your mother.


http://humblemuslimah.blogspot.com/

______________________

This one made me cry. We take our parents and family for granted, especially our mothers, SubhanAllah.  Just so you know, I love you all (especially Aunty and Mamma)! May Allah (swt) bless you with health and iman (Ameen).

K.I.S.S. (Keep It Simple and Sincere)

I got this in the mail today: 


Wedding of Hazrat Fatimah (Radi'Allahu Anha) :

Fatimah (Radi'Allahu Anha) is the youngest daughter of our beloved Prophet (Sallallaahu Alayhi Wasallam). Out of all the children, she(R.A) was the most beloved to him(PBUH). Hazrat Muhammad(PBUH) said, "The Queen of the ladies in Jannat is Fatimah(R.A)." Hazrat Muhammad... also said, "Fatimah(R.A) is part of my body. Whoever grieves her, grieves me."

When Fatimah (Radi'Allahu Anha) reached the age of fifteen, proposals for her(R.A) marriage began to come from high and responsible families. But the Prophet (PBUH) remained irresponsive.

Ali (Radi'Allahu Anhu), who was 21 at the time, says: "It occurred to me that I should go and make a formal proposal, but then I thought, 'How could this be accomplished, for I possess nothing.' At last, encouraged by the Prophet's kindness, I went to him and expressed my intention to marry Fatimah (R.A). The Prophet (PBUH) was extremely pleased and asked, 'Ali! Do you possess anything to give her in Mahr?' I replied, 'Apart from a horse and an armour I possess nothing.' The Prophet (PBUH) said, 'A soldier must, of course, have his horse. Go and sell away your armour.'"

So, Ali (R.A) went and sold his armour to Uthmaan (R.A) for 480 Dirham and presented it to Rasulullah (PBUH). Bilaal (R.A) was ordered by the Prophet (PBUH) to bring some perfume and a few other things and Anas (R.A) was sent to call Abu Bakr(R.A), Uthmaan(R.A), Talhah(R.A), Zubayr(R.A) with some companions from the Ansaar (R.A).


When these men arrived and had taken their seats, the Prophet (PBUH) recited the Khutbah (sermon) of Nikaah and gave Fatimah (R.A) in marriage to Ali (R.A). He announced, "Bear you all witness that I have given my daughter Fatimah(R.A) in marriage to Ali for 400 Mithqaal of silver and Ali has accepted." He then raised his head and made Dua saying, "O Allah, create love and harmony between these two. Bless them and bestow upon them good children." After the Nikaah, dates were distributed.

When the time came for Fatimah (R.S) to go to Ali's (R.A) house, she was sent without any clamour, hue and cry accompanied Umm Ayman (R.A). After the 'Isha Salaat, the Prophet (PBUH) went to their house, took permission and entered. He asked for a basin of water, put his blessed hands into it and sprinkled it on both Ali (R.A) and Fatimah (R.A) and made Dua for them.

The sovereign of both worlds gave his beloved daughter a silver bracelet, two Yemeni sheets, four mattresses, one blanket, one pillow, one cup, one hand-grinding mill, one bedstead, a small water skin and a leather pitcher.

In this simple fashion, the wedding of the daughter of the leader of the worlds was solemnised. In following this Sunnah method, a wedding becomes very simple and easy to fulfill. "


We are so involved in doing things that conform to the rules of society, often times falling into haraam. Weddings today consist of expensive halls, with costly food, decor, and big cakes ( I had it all except for the latter).  All those people we invited and the many that we couldn't, are all a distant memory. There are only a handful that we're still in touch with. So much of the focus is on the big day, however, it's the rest of the days that matter the most. All those people, for the pleasures of whom we do all these 'wordly' preparations, just eat, wish you well, give their gift and go home. "The bride looked pretty, the food was too spicy... I'm so tired"...and that's it, it's all forgotten. All that preparation...for what? I wish that weddings would be like that of Fatima (RA), such simplicity and beauty.


Does the amount of money spent on a wedding, reduce the anxiety the bride feels? Does it lessen the bittersweet pain of the brides' parents as they give away their precious daughter? Does the pain lessen if she travels in a stretch limo or an antique from the 60's? Is the groom less nervous in an expensive tux or following the lead of a marching band? Does the sincerity of the guests dua's and well wishes for the couple lessen if there are no more then 20 dishes at the open buffet? Does anyone remember the smell of the fresh flowers strewn all over the ground as the bride made her entrance? Given enough time, do the guests remember what colour the bride wore? Many years later, when sitting in a rocking chair, with her grand-daughter in her lap, will the bride recall the minuscule details of her wedding day? Or will she share the memories, experiences and wisdoms gained from the many years of a beautiful marriage with the man that Allah (SWT) had ordained for her? Forget 'many years later', I can't even remember the colour of the napkins at...what was the name of that wedding hall? May Allah (SWT) guide us and forgive us (Ameen).

Allhumdulillah for the Small Things

The weekend has come and gone. Allhumdulillah it was a good one. I fasted on Thursday, surprisingly it was a very easy fast. The day sped by very quickly, and in the evening R. invited us for dinner. May Allah reward her for preparing such a yummy meal. I'm going to put the veggie recipe on here, Insha'Allah. Friday, we were just chilling at home. It's very rare that we get some 'free' time as a family. There is always so much going on, especially with S. But the moments, we get, however short, should be cherished. May Allah grant us peace and tranquility in our lives (Ameen).

The fasts have been good. Unfortunately, I've only been able to do two. I decided I would do it every other day, as I get really, really drained. The body is not used to it, and I don't want to risk getting sick. Plus, I go to the gym everyday, although I try to slow down the workout on the days of the fast, I am wiped out at the end of the day. I've started my homeschooling too, Allhumdulillah. So all that combined, plus cooking and a very active and demanding baby (Masha'Allah), I just can't seem do it everyday. Insha'Allah if I aim to keep at least 10 fasts a month, then I should be good. May Allah bless me with the strength (Ameen).

As I said, I've started homeschooling. It's the child of a family friend of ours. The school he goes to has it's summer vacation from April to June. They will open back up in July when the rest of his family is vacationing in Pakistan (silly, is it not?) So they've kindly given me the opportunity to school him. Masha'Allah he's a good kid and is very kind towards Heemu ( the most important thing for me, I don't wind a child who will bully my baby or be a bad influence on him). May Allah bless me with the guidance to teach this child well and arouse in him the love of deen (Ameen).

Insha'Allah I will do weekly posts about our homeschooling adventure!

Till then, Ma'a Salaama

Make-up Fasts - Day 1 of 30

Today is my first make-up fast. I was unable to fast the whole month Ramadan 1430 as Ibraheem was born on the 7th of Ramadan. I thought before Ramadan rolls around again, Insha'Allah, I should make up my missed fasts. I had some frozen paratha and a fried egg for sahoor. Quick and convenient! This is my first fast in a while, I hope the day goes well, Bi-idhnillah!

I am going to add a new page to the blog about **drrrrrum rrrrroll** cooking. Yeah! My favourite pastime. I'm always on the hunt for new and fun recipes to try. Eating the same food day-in and day-out can get pretty boring. I'm not as adventurous as I used to be pre-Ibraheem, but Insha'Allah keeping a page on the blog will motivate me. Feel free to send some new and interesting recipes my way, I'm pretty much open to anything that doesn't move on my plate unless I'm the one moving it!

It's the weekend, Allhumdulillah. S. is very busy with some courses he's taking online. I wanted to go to Mecca or to Medina this weekend, but he's got some due dates coming up. Without having to run around so much on the weekend, Thursday and Friday are the best 'working' days for him. You know it would be so much easier if they would just let the women drive here. (But then I think of the crazy way the people drive here and I thank Allah that I'm not behind the wheel, Allhumdulillah!) The man wouldn't be as bombarded with running errands all the time. In Canada, I would just take the car and do whatever outside work that I have to do. Groceries, doctors's appointments, shopping, visiting etc., I didn't have to wait for S. to chauffeur me everywhere. It worked out well, I could do my thing (window shopping) without him making faces and checking his watch every minute (can you tell he enjoys it?). And he would get some 'me-free'( free time for himself and time away from me lol) time. But here, I feel sorry for the guy. He works from 7 to 2pm and then has to take me to the gym, pick me up, run whatever errands that need to be done, give his due time to the baby (baby is very demanding of attention from Baba) and do his 'homework'!  May Allah bless him with health and the strength to continue doing all that he does. May Allah put barakah in everyones' days, Ameen.