Life Hung in Limbo

 


  I'm tired.
It's been too long and my heart is aching, my body is weak, and my soul is only fragile.
I carry a burden that's become unbearable. I've always had bright aspirations that would make me wake up in the morning, feeling purposeful and hellbent on moving on...
These aspirations have become a little too mainstream, a little too washed-out; they no longer shine through my eyes, they no longer buzz me up.
Demotivated is probably the word that explains it all.
I need some quiet and peace of mind.
Ya Allah...

My Munchkin

  "Where on earth have you been?"

  I'm usually late, missing out or miserable when you drop by. 

Your heart aches for the pain of others, and your caring eyes never fail to see through my troublesome ones. The first attitude of yours that struck me as being real stark was a roll-with-life's-punches-heya-moota-wa7da attitude. A skedaddle-to-help-out-my-buddies-no-matter-what demeanor, and a beautiful reminder of Allah when the going gets tough.

You've always serenaded me with a faithful aura, reprieved my pains and guided me through.
AlhmduelAllah for having a sisterhood binding us together, I shall forever pray for you, and please don't let hormones mess it up between us. :D

To My Pepsiholic

  "Hardships metaphored into reckless cheerfulness"

I think of you and this very phrase pops right away into my mind. You baffle me. You teach me and I lean on you at times when I'm too fragile. 

I see that light in your eyes, one that tries-constantly-to evict worldy desires outta your soul. The light extinguishes at times, and I try to reignite it with my futile attempts. 

To me you're pretty mysterious, I've only peeked on a wee bit of the real you, the rest is only buried deep underneath.

You're always at beck and call and that's what i truely love about you. You enthrone me, give the strength to think ahead and wipe off that battlefatigue that has long dragged me down.

Do assauge your grief, buddy. I see the pain in that scarred heart, but I refuse to let it sink in and ruin you.InshAllah I'll always be there, pushing you forward and driving your prettyful Zebda <3

Stay cheerful, stay happy and stay by my side for ever.

Adjourned

   They adjourned. A little of what lied ahead is what they knew. They held close to their hearts a view of a prosperous tomorrow, one that's pain-free, successful, and glamorous. Little is what the knew,oh how very little they knew.

 Days came by, storming. They held on, strongly. They kept moving through the thick and the thin, trying to tweak their lives into perfection; Each has already taken a somewhat similar yet starkly different road. They're to be doctors, each in a different field, a different homeland, and a whole different world.

I'm still here, my friend, trying to pull myself together, trying to move on and not give up. I trip and fall...I cry, and I fail...but at the end of the day I go to bed with a little twinkling hope in my heart, and a prayer that never fails to befriend my lonely nights.
"May Allah accept all our endeavours and may He bestow upon us all that's beautiful in both lives."
Amen

Speechlessly Grateful

Here's to a Lord who's never let go of me, even at my worst times of repulsion.

Here's to a lot of people who deserve much more than what I can possible give.

Here's to a life alluringly sweet at times, and deceptively obnoxious at others.

I lived through days of hardship that couldn't have passed by any sweeter; I have a friend who, by God's great preparations, stood by me through the thick and thin.
At exam times when I'd almost given up, she showed up with her prettyful face and totally sarcastic demeanor. She filled my little heart with cheerfulness.
We raced on highways, down hills and over Gam3a-bridge.
We traveled together, planned great acts of mischief and carried them out together. We ate, laughed, cried, prayed, fasted and lived a life full of magical loveliness.
A few days ago when I thought I couldn't go on, and only when I was this close to a breakdown, she held on real tight. Took my hand and drove around for almost a whole day, looking for ways to ease my pain and heal my existence. She made the hardship of my having had a car accident, made it real funny and no an iota of misery seeped into my heart.

I have a friend who embodies "A friend in need is a friend indeed"

Hadeel Ahmed, May your life be filled with zesty cheerfulness. May you get married and live a life of mas5ara. May you, my sister, excel in your Akhira and Donya.
May you always stay by my side, through the thick and thin, my friend, through the thick
and thin.

Realize much, Ask less

Perhaps we're wired that way. We expect too much from those who mean a lot to us. We expect to have them bear with us when we're too demanding, hold us closer when we're too fragile, and accept us when we fail, pull us up when we trip.

Perhaps they don't succeed all the time. Perhaps they pull through tough times only to give up in the end, perhaps this whole life is damned, as our Prophet said, (except for a scientist, a knowledge seeker and a rememberer of Allah)

I know we should accept the fact that everyone fails, and that we should NEVER expect anything from anyone, that we should turn to Allah all the time, and that our tears should be well hidden from those around us, for at the end of the day everyone cares solely for themselves and no matter how caring you are for someone, you still put your priorities first.

I don't know why I'm jotting this down, but the luminous laptop screen and the deserted apartment along with a few recent occurrences seem to put me in such a devastating state...I should turn to Him, I am trying I swear I am...Ya Rab.

Right off the highway

She stood there by herself.
A fully blown handsome female. Hot tears streaming down her recently-tanned face. Years of her life passed by, as fast as those cars driving by, almost like a blur.
She was thoughtless, evicted of all feelings and emotions. Only memories drifted by, filling up her consciousness, smothering her very existence. Poignant memories, sour ones.
It's true that at blue times, bad memories are enthroned. They prevail and hoodwink you into believing that happiness is a rather a myth, and yet an ungraspable one.
Cars kept looming past, and I stood close by observing her.
Responsibilities piled up at her doorstep...everyday as they grew older, the burden of having to look after them and provide for them increased. Faith and strong will kept life rolling. But then she almost gave up...for at times like these, giving up is alluringly a sweet resort... a final painless one. 

Subhana Allah

When you learn more in a few weeks than what you've learnt in a whole lifetime, then that's something.

Subhana Allah!

Stark realization.

Cause at times like these, words fail a lot.

Pensiveness

"Is it happening already?" she said, with her wrinkled face giving away a purely innocent look of puzzlement. Puzzlement topped with fear, and mingled with a pinch of helplessness. She looked at her sweetheart, lying on the hospital bed, too weak to turn his debilitated body around so as to face her. Bed sores spread all over his elbows and knees. He was weak. Far too weak and sick. His clothes were bedraggled and his silvery hair uncombed. He wept.

I looked at her, that pensiveness of hers overwhelmed me. It got me to see the life they've led through her eyes. Trials at cooking, days of passion, sun rays touching down at late afternoon, at the terrace where they sat down, drinking tea and a blue day when his mum passed away, he sat by her side, weeping. She said she'll always be there for him. That she did.

Now his days are coming to an end, and she refuses to see it.

Annihilation

Just a quickie to always remind myself that satan is real weak and fragile. I shouldn't ever delve into misery or helplessness. For as long as there's God out there, all Strong and Powerful, helplessness is annihilated and a shimmering hope prevails.

Keep it in mind, bud.
Hope, have faith and go out there, blossom.

Skedaddle

A rule of thumb in childrearing is ‘Withholding’. A kid will throw a tantrum if they’re not instantaneously given what they want. Parents usually “enthrone” their kids by resigning to what they want. That’d be downright stupid and naïve. You’re not to commiserate with them, nor grant them what they wish at their first show of disapproval. Teach them patience by ‘withholding’ from their tiny fists what they’re aching to get. Life has rules; you don’t get what you desire by pouting. You persevere, do your homework and then bounties will pile up at your doorstep…And sure enough, when they do, you’ll be ever so grateful and you’ll both value and enjoy them a great deal.

Budding kids reside within each and every one of us. Their shrewdness and neediness is no where less than that of the chronologically younger. You assuage your “Inner kid’s” thirst and hallelujah! You’ve just become enslaved to its senseless temperament and moot discrepancies.

There’s somehow an unsightly magic in standing up against your desires. When you feel a burning desire to commit wrongdoing and you right away skedaddle to the OPPOSITE direction, a little something blooms within… This thing gives you a considerable sum of control over your future whims. It tames them. It gives you mastery. It gives you the upper hand.

So I’m reminding myself, constantly, that whenever I don’t acquiesce to every little whim, one day I’ll be serenaded by what I long for…and all the perseverance I've put in shall be worthwhile.

“(7) By the Soul, and the proportion and order given to it;
(8) And its enlightenment as to its wrong and its right
(9) Truly he succeeds that purifies it,
(10) And he fails that corrupts it!”

-Ash-Shams

A sleepless night

Alas i know my way. I know where I'm heading, oh it's so bitter. So painstaking. It's totally hard. I'll persevere, by God's will, I know I will, it's no longer an option.

Perseverance has become an obligation.

My eyes have been shielded from you.
My soul blocked off from righteousness...
It's all because of that much of 'donya' that has seeped into my existence. Deeds unaccounted for. Bounties bestowed upon me, unthanked for. Oh I can see my path so clear from where I'm standing now. What is this feeling within,however? A pang of fear?!

I used to fear the unknown. But now that I KNOW ,why do I feel this much of fright? I'm afraid i might go astray again. I'm afraid that should my heart stiffen once again, i'll find no way back to right-headeness.

Repentance always paves the way for any change I opt for. Long hours of reflection. Tears and prayers. I prayed that Allah gives me back that feeling of compassion I have always had towards this Ummah. Prayed that He shall take away this apathetic me that i have turned into. He answered my prayers. He always did.

Gaza has been under attack once again. 3 am in the morning and I'm already sitting by myself, crying in silence. I feel the grief of the newly-orphaned. I share the pain of the bleeding. I'm in pain. So much of it. And so is my Ummah.
I'll pray, for one day I'll share not only these pains, but also the elation of a victory that follows close in. Oh Allah. Ya Rab.

Bedraggled

She sat cross-legged on her bed at the ophthalmology ward.

Her clothes were bedraggled and she had her head-veil carelessly wrapped around her wise face.Deep lines spread all over her face told tales of a life she's led.She felt content as she turned to look at her youthful daughter sitting on her side..."No dear it's alright,she mutters.."Ana kweysa, ana kweysa" "I'm good ,I'm good"

She smiled at me.I introduced myself...A medstudent who's here to examine her eyes,only if she didn't mind.I stretched my hand out to shake hers.Her face lit up,and she knelt down and kissed my hand.I officially panicked and took my hand back right away.

I leaned down and hugged her...she almost wept,and so did I.

Over and over I'm met by stereotypical egyptians.Some who have been brought up to believe that a Physician is a 'Hakeem',a 'Wise man'.Someone who deserves all the respect and gratitude there is to offer.My grandpa used to shake only "fingers" with patients who were nothing but farmers...To him,people were categorized.Gestures were tailored according to the social standards.That sets me at so much unease.

Frankly speaking,I find categorizing fellow humans an utterly obscene act.We're way too shortsighted and under-equipped to judge others.We judge people by their looks,accents,clothes, and levels of education. Let me tell you that some of the most wonderful human beings reside in the poorest of districts,dress up in the cheapest of clothes,and perhaps possess little,if any knowledge of those mindblowing scientific achievements.Taqwah (Piety) sets them at a higher standard than any other mid-class or high-class citizens.They have morals.Strong hellbent ethical norms.Allah has them at higher levels within His books.They're light years ahead of us.

Next time you set off to judge a person,remember that sometimes the most astounding human features are not merely displayed on their outsides.They might be buried deep in their souls,hidden as parcels of good-manners that show up if you give them a chance.Or they might be scribbled down in books so sacred that they're in the possession of angels.Angels who jot down every bit of act we do.Careful what you do.For I know that one day I'll be desperate for a single good deed.You never know if you ever will be,too.

Hardheadedness

Down through the days,I keep learning .For I try and I err.I try,err and eventually I learn.

Hardheadedness doesn't spring from foulmouth-ness. Neither it does from 'apparent' independence. 

Hardheadedness,in my opinion,comes along by acknowledging the boundaries of your own very existence.It's having a zeal for discovering those little pitfalls in your personality,accepting them and ultimately overcoming them.For that ,at the end of the day, makes you indifferent to sentiments.Better yet,it sets you up as a realistic earthling.One with a thinking so critical that life seems to flash by as a set of playing cards.You know which card to play already.

Hardheadedness is good.It shields one from the cheeky.I cant put up with impertinence.I just can't.

Meh...

A Masjid

Silent serenity reigned.

I carefully took every step of the stairway,enjoying myself.
Slowly inhaled the sweet vanilla scent of bokhoor that saturated the air...slow short inspirations, bothering to show tribute to my asthma.

Hung on the walls along both sides of the staircase were some nice quotations,Hadiths,and reminders...I always enjoy reading them,every time I get in there.
I took my Converse off,held the red pair very eloquently in my left hand,and leaned against the door pushing the golden doorknob swiftly with my right hand.


The golden doorknob never failed to grab my attention...so neatly polished and intricately designed,it was seated there,sweetly inviting me to hold it,turn in down and walk in.

Once inside,you're met by this special aroma that inhabits Masjids.It's the sweet odor of carpets,neatly stacked books of Quran,and well,a house of God.

My fav red cushion sat very lonely at the far end of the Masjid,slowly i walked towards it,passing by the bamboo separators that neatly segregated the Masjid into two.One for males,and the other for us.


I sat down and sighed...
I talked to God bout life.How funny it seems at times.How frustrating at others.
I kinda whispered my thoughts to Him...My childish fears,and my grown-up dreams.
I told Him bout my good friends too.I marveled on how picky I've become,choosing people more closely for my company...I even told Him about my first ophthalmology patient...how bedraggled his clothes were...and how his eyes held alot of pain and misery...and how my inexperienced eyes glimpsed a glitter of hope unmoved by all that which he's been through.


I walked to the closest stack of Qurans and took one.I then retired to my cozy cushion.I like to randomly open the holy book,and then seek a serious advise from the first verse my eyes fall on.My Quran tutor taught me that back in Saudi.She would gather us around her,and randomly pick up verses for each of us.It made me feel special and somehow manage to relate to each and every little verse that 'spoke for me'.

The Azan was being recited.I leaned back and closed my eyes.Azan intrigues me a lot.A call for prayer by the All-Mighty.What's more honoring than that?
Better yet,what's more pressing in life than answering the call of your Creator?

After prayer I walked back home...with a little undefined thing residing in my wee heart.I felt serene.I felt connected.

At a l'heure bleue

Look at this!
Look at my life,look at yours.Yesterday was very beautiful,I'd build up anything I wanted.My dreams ran wild,my thoughts free,my imagination untamed,my soul could breathe.But today...why the hell is today so real?


Unleashed was my life.I would create a whole perfect life within my own.I'd paint it pink,furnish it with my aspiration,color it up with my enthusiasm,portrait it as a funland,a loveland...It was a pink world.It was my perfect little world.


Hatred never existed there.Neither did misery.If I let you in,you'd have to first strip off your insipid namby-pambiness at my doorstep.I used to play games too.The good type if you ask me.Swimming was my way to delve into just about anything I wanted.I would swim at day and night.Whenever the water is freezing,I would dive right in,swim away in freestyle.I hated backstroke.Why face the ceiling when there's so much to see in the crystal clear blue water? Butterfly would give me cramps.Freestyle was my thing.I loved it.I would keep constructing my perfect world while swimming.Make amendments to it,fill it up with twinkling beauty.I loved my world.

My real life was somehow lusterless.Studies.School.Family.Sports club.BOOKS! Whoever invented books is a beast.Throughout my life,I've read tens and tens of books,zillions of magazines,endless number of articles...BOOOKS!Hardcovers.Paperbacks.Novels. Psychology.Medicine.Sports.Statistics. Every single book embroidered a new page in my life.Some of these pages were long parchments.Others were dog-eared.Most of them,however,were singular pages.You wont see these pages anywhere.They're far too pretty to be peeked upon.I can show you into them,though...I need to like you first.Maybe I would someday.


My stepping into adulthood is magical.No.I've never left my scrapbook in my teens-backpack.I still carry it around.But I have responsibilities now.Grownups' stuff.Boring,but sophisticated.I enjoy them much.They build me up,They make me the person I wanna be.They make me the person this world is aching to have.I'll ease your pains one day,by God's will.I suffer at times so I would be capable of stopping your pain.To me failure is to stand in front of you, helpless.I need to learn things,pretty medical things.They might help you one day,they should.I'll ease your pains one day,by God's will.


Driving is cool.Its my vent at times.Boring monotonous acts,with the littlest bit of mischief, can become exhilarating.Everyday as I drive these long hours,I can see  myself along this splendid timeline.Milestones are scattered here and there.Sorry,they're PUT there on purpose.They're cheerful and so tempting.They are my little pearls.I tend to pass by them in a jiffy,every now and then.I smile as I go past them.I just wanna see them there,seek their sheen,and suck in some perseverance.They make my life purposeful.You need to have milestones,they're nice things to have.


So its only been a week into my third round, Ophthalmology,and I've already diagnosed half of my family members with whopping eye problems.Arcus senilis and a tiny crescent of pannus in my dad's eye.T3 in my mum's.A tiny pretty pinguecula in my older sister's.And keratoconus somewhere else.My upbeat mood has showed off on them all.They were all chatting away happily,as they marveled on the little "beauties" (as I put it to them) their eyes revealed.They've lived for so long with cool stuff that albeit being inside their eyes,they couldn't see them.I told them that was another asset.Seeing any of these is somehow deemed a corneal opacity,which by the way is NOT cool.

My perfect lil life has receded a bit.Overwhelmed by the reality of everyday's life,my cheerful portrait couldn't fully stand its grounds.That's fine.As long as it's lingering somewhere in the vicinity,perfectly set up for my desperate runaways.I thank God for giving me this little bit of treasure.It renders me crazy at times.reckless at others.but at everyday's l'heure bleue,I stand grateful...

Alhmduel Allah.

Endowment.

Perched at the window,she looked out.Silence.Melancholy rocked her weak body.She shivered.Her futile attempts at fighting back loomed past her eyes.They watered.Zoombies of good memories plagued her conscience.She smiled...


Out through the window she looked. Sillhoutes of a couple making out at roadside disgusted her.She turned to look at the opposite side of the street.A kid was tottering behind his parents.His coggling amused her...a wave of jubliance showered her weak body...she felt youthful.


Her past years were typically montonous.Memories of her future years seemed so solid...so real,she almost believed that future has already mingled with her past,leaving behind corollaries of moments passed unlived, jokes dead before being said,and feelings slaughtered before being felt...she sighed.


Loneliness taught her to listen and reflect.To ponder over what's being heard and to ignore the clatter of everyday's life.She felt her presence nullified by an overhwhelming power to just sit back and reflect.Humility has ousted her pride.She felt vulnerable,yet overridden by a desire to shut up her demanding innerself and to prick her ears to the sound of those around,suffering...

This world puzzled her a big deal.It awed her how mothers can give so much and get nothing in return.It appalled her how people would strive to gain power,bear with ever so much bureaucracy and then forget all about their humble roots.It saddened her how passion can rip hearts apart and how misery has easily become the daily theme.It shocked her how forgetful people were,remembering God ONLY at moments of need and weakness.It was then that she turned up to look at the sky..

An equally lonely moon met her gaze.It was perfectly spherical with its outlines radiating a beautifully lineated rim of light.The moonlit street seemed to liven up at last.Bits of light shimmering outta that lunar disc,albeit being so little, illuminated just about everything underneath it.The welted leaves strewn across the parking lot somehow managed to look green and youthful.The sleeping beggar huddled at the dumpster shifted in his sleep,devouring the little bit of warmth the moon endowed him with.A travelling tribe spotted the moon,adjusted their route and chanted avidly with their voices infiltrating the thick curtains of darkness around them.Sensing the wave of swift change that has vibrated through the world,the moon purposefully looked forward to tomorrow, where it would sneak back to its hiding on the other side of the world,saving up a bit of the sun's energy,only to come back next night and wipe off some grief from the world.

She left her spot by the window and set off for the door,turned down the doorknob and stepped outside.It was daytime already.She was confident.She headed off to where she should have gone a long while ago...she felt relieved.