I love the second and third songs (Fatima and Wavin’ Flag).
Speaking of music, I had been meaning to profile an artist I met at ISNA this summer. I don’t have the time presently to write a lengthy piece but I want to make sure to mention him. I was impressed with Ismail Daugherty’s (who goes by the name Khalil Ismail) talent and character. From the intro. song (awesome! classical music sauteed with hip hop/rap to perfection) on, Ismail’s ability to use his musical aptitude with thought and full awareness/consciousness (which is rare to see with such consistence throughout an album) is obvious. If you can, please support this brother who is well-spoken, a good writer and musically gifted, masha’Allah. http://www.khalilmusic.com/ 
Once upon a time, there was a time when there squeezed through the bustlings of my day a little bubble (pink, faintly bubble-gum smelling) of time – just enough to write something down…and, lo and behold, with some key-tapping, it would be something that could be read by readers out there somewhere. Oh whither that bubble?
I miss blogging. But I don’t miss writing as I’ve been doing that pretty consistently since my official year off work began. My book, well, bookS now (when one takes a snooze, I turn my mind to the otherS) is/are coming along slowly but surely – with Allah’s help.
But I miss blogging because when one is blogging, keeping up with reading bloggers and discussing things, you’ve got your finger on the pulse of what we’re about – in real-time, in actual-history. And now, to be shut away (even if by choice), it feels rather peculiarly lonesome.
One of the bloggers whom I used to lurk at before I launched on my own, Ali Eteraz, just came out with his book, Children of Dust. I haven’t had the chance to read it – but as he was a captivating writer, I think I will need to pick it up. I am still holding out that he takes up writing a book he had once described called The Poverty of the Prophet. As I remember from a brief excerpt he published, it was unique in its ability to so compellingly capture the moving simplicity of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him).
While I am tapping away on my story, I am constantly trying to rein my cart in before the horse…I so want this year to be fruitful in finishing a book. Even if it does not see the light of publishing day, I feel like that song by the beatles, blackbird…I was waiting all my life for this moment to arrive… to become a writer.
Well, I like to think I became a writer in grade seven when my homeroom teacher, who had the reputation for being the strictest in the school, called me to her desk on the first day and asked in a stern voice if I really did write the “What I did this summer” essay on my own. I quakingly said yes. For two weeks, she watched me carefully every time we got assigned something to write and then finally, called me again to that majestic desk and handed me a paper marked with an A+ and asked me if I knew that I was a writer. I quakingly said no. I did not know anything definable about myself besides Muslim, girl and perhaps, brown? Muslim Brown Girl. Now Ms. Z. made me Muslim Brown Girl Writer and it felt good.
So this moment has arrived and I try to take the pressure off by devoting all my energy to making googly-eyed breakfasts for my daughter and packing heartier, healthier lunches for my son, and growing more in gratitude to the Merciful One for the love He allowed to fall into my life through my awesome husband, and by having so much fun with the condo:
(and my favorite, the beginnings of a library!)
but the moment has arrived – to write, to finish and to have and hold: A BOOK. Written by a Muslim brown girl, insha’Allah.
(But please remember, I still miss blogging. And I’m thankful that some of you still miss me and keep googling commonplacer.wordpress only to find nothing updated…I so sorry. Perhaps, at that point, you can say a prayer that I finish my book. 
)
January 27, 2007: “Prime Minister Stephen Harper apologized Friday to Maher Arar for Canada’s role in his “terrible ordeal” and announced he will receive $10.5 million in a legal settlement with the government, the largest compensation package for an individual in Canadian history. ‘We cannot go back and fix the injustice that occurred to Mr. Arar. However, we can make changes to lessen the likelihood that something like this will ever happen again,’ said Harper.” - CanWest News Service
Aug 21, 2009
Thursday, Sep. 24, 2009: Abdelrazik sues Ottawa for $27-million
Will 40 million dollars finally teach the government that they are plain discriminatory towards some Canadians?
My youngest uncle on my mom’s side passed away this past weekend. It was sudden, unexpected and beautiful. How can I say this about the death of a man with a quiet smile and a wide heart? Perhaps this is why I can say it – maybe it only makes sense that a life of generosity and gentleness would end after fajr with the shahadah being the last words uttered over and over on the way to the hospital. He died of a brain hemorrhage. Unexpected and sudden.
The first and lasting memory I have of him is of a thin young man, his arm outstretched with something – fruit, candy, something yummy – being offered to us – his nieces, nephews, the teen girl across the road who played with us. The spunky, fun girl who would suddenly become shy when she got a glimpse of him. And pretend she didn’t want those slices of mango all the rest of us were clamoring to get from his fingers. Then he would look to the side, smile knowingly and say to me or my sister, “why don’t you take a bit extra to share with your friend?” Oh, that would just make her shy smile glow. I think that was the first time I understood what love could look like.
They got married soon after and though it must have pained them both, he joined the exodus of young men going to the UAE to work in order to support their families. And it was here we would often stop by on our visits to India or while on Umrah. On these visits, we would find ourselves in a surreal situation – watching my uncle in his cramped, simple quarters lay out a pricey feast of food for us – his roommates hovering nearby to help host us with an intense loyalty which surely must have been generated over the years of knowing Sidi Aaka. It would feel awful at first and make one want to shout: Please don’t pamper us like this! We are overfed Westerners who just got off a plane which suddenly appears luxurious though we had just finished complaining about how cramped it felt! But…then, the sight of his eyes lighting up, his smile glowing as we ashamedly ate would quell these thoughts. We would once more take from his outstretched hands because we understood what love could look like.
May Allah have mercy on your soul Sidi Aaka and may your young wife, three children and all of us who love you hold those quiet, gentle and loving hands once more in the life to come.
Seven Great Characters
By Dr Muzammil H. Siddiqi March 25, 2005
Abu Hurairah reported that the Prophet – peace be upon him – said, “Allah will cover seven people with His shade, on the Day when there will be no shade but His: a just ruler, a youth who has been brought up in the worship of Allah, a man whose heart is attached to the mosques, two persons who love each other only for Allah’s sake and they meet and part in Allah’s cause only, a man who refuses the call of a beautiful and rich woman for illicit relation with her and says: I am afraid of Allah, a man who gives charitable gifts so secretly that his left hand does not know what his right hand has given, and a person who remembers Allah while he is alone and his eyes are flooded with tears.” (Al-Bukhari, Hadith 620)
We all need Allah’s shade. To be under Allah’s shade is to be protected by Him and be blessed by Him. We need His shade in this life and in the Hereafter. It is mentioned that the Day of Judgment will be a very hard and difficult Day. On that every one will be worried and will try to find some protection and shade; but there will be no shade on that Day except the special shade of Allah. This shade will be granted to seven special types of people:
1. A just ruler or a just leader: It could be any person who has some authority and he/she uses this authority with justice and fairness without any favoritism or prejudice. Justice is the command of God for all people; but the most critical is the doing of justice when one has power and authority. More difficult is, of course, dealing justly with those who show hate and animosity towards you. A just person, especially a just leader or ruler, is given number one place in this list of seven.
2. A young person growing up in the worship of Allah: Worship of Allah is good for all people at any age and time; but the worship of Allah from the tender young age has special blessings. Many people become devoted to Allah when they grow old. In the old age when the body becomes weak, people start paying attention to the spirit. However, to be conscious of one’s spirit and growing up as a youth in the obedience of Allah bring a special honor and blessings.
3. A person whose heart is connected to the Masjid: Literally it says that the heart is hanging (mu’allaq) in the masjid. Imam Malik explained that it was a person who when he leaves the Masjid, looks forward to coming back again soon. Normally people’s hearts are attached to their jobs, business and home. Masjid is not the priority for many people. However, those who love the House of Allah and keep it as their priority are the blessed people and they shall receive the special favor of Allah.
4. Two people loving each other for the sake of Allah: One should be friendly to all people and deal with all people in a kind and courteous manner. However, the friendship for the sake of Allah, for the reasons of piety and goodness is a very blessed friendship. This is a sincere friendship and when two or more people become attached to each other for Allah’s sake they bring a lot of good to themselves and to those around them. This is a kind of friendship that generates goodness in the world and is especially blessed by Allah.
5. A person of solid moral character: The Prophet gave an example of this solid character. He said a man tempted for illicit relationship by a woman who is beautiful and rich, influential or of a prestigious family (the word “mansab” means all these things in Arabic) and he refuses. Imam Ibn Hajar says that this is not limited to a man only who is tempted by a woman; it equally applies to a woman who may be tempted by a man who is very beautiful, powerful and rich and she refuses and says “I fear Allah.” It requires a lot of moral strength to refuse temptation when the other partner is attractive, rich,and not only consenting but persuasive. Those who have such a strong character they are indeed under the protection of Allah.
6. A person of charity who does not show off his/her charity: A person gives charity in such a way that even his left hand does not know what his right hand has done. This is a very powerful and beautiful way to say that a person gives quietly, discreetly and with sincerity. His/her purpose is not to show off, seek publicity, name or fame; but only to please Allah. This is the highest kind of charity and it has a special reward and blessing from Allah.
7. A person who remembers Allah privately with eyes filled with tears: Thinking of Allah, repeating His Beautiful Names, thanking Him and praising Him, these are the ways to remember (dhikr) Allah. Doing the “dhikr” alone in one’s privacy, when no one is watching, with moving heart and tearful eyes is a sign of sincere faith and deep love of Allah. Those who have the love of Allah, they are indeed under His shade and protection.
All these seven characters are deeply moral and spiritual characters. They indicate a person’s faith and sincere commitment. They are related to feeling, thinking, speaking and action. These are true characters of sincere believers. We pray to Allah to bless us with these characters and with his shade in this world and also in the Hereafter. Ameen. (Khutbah at ISOC – Muharram 30, 1426/ March 11, 2005) – DrSiddiqi@aol.com
Photo by Will De Freitas
Can we start another mass linking for this one? Asmaa, Noha, Shaz, and others, please pass it on…it’s such a smart, light-hearted way to get our views across!
It’s so nice to hear this from an American president. Alhamdulillah.
A Saturday afternoon to myself! How did that come about? I can’t say I miss the old days as a single mom when I had many a Saturday afternoons to myself – to write, to take a nap on the white sofa in the sunlight, to swim and to chat with friends and make plans for the evening. Wait, that sounds so lovely that it sounds like I miss it. Ok, so while I absolutely love being married, the solitary Saturdays are like drops of… of… of something sustenance-ing.
My husband is working on a project, my daughter is at a BFF sleepover – extended version, my sonS (stepson too – with us for the summer) are with their uncle. And I is alone. Sigh (of sustenance).
The vestiges of the whirlwind of a summer we found ourselves in are still in the hallway to be unpacked – we just returned from a camping trip yesterday. My husband and I get exhausted when we rhyme off all the things we’ve enjoyed, done, encountered, endured, accepted, planned, etc just in the month of July. Let’s just say that they involved, among other things, 3 separate road trips, baseball season for my 13 year old, a hospital stay and balcony gardening battling with the wind (he says he has learned not to garden 19 stories up, I say I’ve learned to choose more hardier plants – and you should see the extra tough sweet peas that bloomed!) And I forgot to add that the summer also involved two step-sibling 9 year olds lugging around their stuffed panda and dog, each stuffed into their very own mini-sleeping bags, all the way over to east coast U.S.A. , Quebec and Ontario wilderness – all the while alternating seamlessly between bickering and being the bestest of friends.
I think I’ll go nap on the white sofa now.
…and I say inallilahi wa ina ilahi rajioon – unto God we belong and unto Him we return.
A friend came by and right before she did, I had just checked my email. The news blurb as I logged in said Michael Jackson suffers a heart attack. By the time I logged out, the news flash said Michael Jackson dies of cardiac arrest.
Of course there was sense of huh? which I had to chase away with the reminder that he was a human belonging to God and as such, was called back to Him. While I wasn’t originally (growing up) a fan of his music, I had come to realize his talent – perhaps even more so now against the current backdrop of a lack of iconic musical talents. It was also interesting to see how many young people now were beginning to rediscover MJ’s music. (At our school’s talent show, choreography set to MJ’s Thriller won the best overall prize – voted by the students).
After I told my friend the news and watched her face go through the same look mine did (“didn’t we grow up to his music?”), we discussed the Muslimness of MJ – or more specifically, my friend wondered the veracity of the claim that he had converted. I don’t doubt the veracity of it. People had wondered about Dave Chappelle’s conversion for a while (perhaps, and rightly, due to the nature of his previous shows) but I saw him on stage (at a Muslim event) where he admitted and spoke candidly about his struggles practicing Islam while in the shady world that is show business. God gives each of us our own struggles and Michael certainly had his. And God knows best.
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God when they’re starving or freezing or so very poor
No one laughs at God when the doctor calls after some routine tests
No one’s laughing at God when it’s gotten real late and their kid’s not back from that party yet
No one laughs at God when their airplane starts to uncontrollably shake
No one’s laughing at God when they see the one they love hand in hand with someone else and they hope that they’re mistaken
No one laughs at God when the cops knock on their door and they say “We’ve got some bad new, sir,”
No one’s laughing at God when there’s a famine, fire or flood…
- regina spektor, Laughing With
Only Yusuf Islam could do a love song to his spouse and God (second part) all in one. I’m missing my husband as he is out of town for a few days and this song just so beautifully captures the Islamic view of love between spouses… It’s from his new album, Roadsinger.
I went to an impromptu dinner with a few friends tonight and this was one of the topics of our conversations. Thanks S for sending us this.
Risk
And then the day came,
when the risk
to remain tight
in a bud
was more painful
than the risk
it took
to blossom.
Anais Nin
The topic I’ve wanted to blog about for so, so long – muslim women, marriage and the turning upside down of all that we’ve grown up being massaged into buying by the many things we’ve read, watched, drooled over, eavesdropped on and imagined can be summed up almost perfectly in the above poem.
I want to write so much on this topic (on which I’ve read so many sister bloggers weigh in but on which I’ve never found that I’m in agreement with any of them) but I’m sure I’ll become verbose so I’ll succintly just state my thesis: A good man is not at all hard to find – if you take the risk of opening your good heart.
I hope to write more on this as I’m often running into the opposite of the sentiment I just wrote.
can you taste the buttery, creamy, homey-ness? you can – if you read my recipe and make it for yourself…
I made shepherd’s pie – a fiesta version (well, actually, since it didn’t have minced lamb, just beef, it’s supposed to be called “cottage pie”). My simple, extremely simple, accomplishment for today, alhamdulillah. Here is the recipe:
1 lb lean minced beef
1 smallish onion
3 cloves garlic pressed through my favourite kitchen tool in the world: a garlic press
1 small jalapeno pepper diced
7 medium potatoes
salted butter
some carrots cut up like coins (i used those “baby” carrots – which are just big carrots cut into cutesy little ones. Humph.)
canned unsalted, unsugared, peas (the canned ones are cuter) – not the whole can and please drain it!
1 can of corn, drained (creamed or regular – I like the regular as it’s not as sweet)
milk (i don’t know how much)
salt to taste
Oh, yeah, chilli pepper and roasted cumin powder (i wasn’t going to tell my husband about this since he’s into purity cooking (i.e. keep most things culturally separate [if you ask me that sounds fishy coming from a french-anglo-saxon guy who married an indian girl]) but since he found a cumin fleck in his food, I had to blurt out my “fusioning” secret).
Defrost 1 lb of lean minced beef 1 hour before your husband (or wife) comes home from work. Peel 7 medium potatoes with a knife NOT a peeler because then you can pretend you’re a carver instead of just a wife cooking. Next, put it (the potatoes, cubed) into a pot of salted water to boil. Dice an onion (smallish) and sweep it (with your voilà-ing knife) into a pot with 2 tablespoons of salted butter because your husband likes things cooked in butter not oil. Put the pressed garlic in too. Then add the diced jalapeno. Add the carrots when you’ve cooked the garlic and onion enough (like 3-4 minutes); you might need to add more butter or wait, I know when my husband reads this he’s going to say, YOU HAVE TO LOWER THE HEAT. Ok, so do that. Add the beef into this after a bit and cook until it’s not pink. Cook it a bit extra (and shh, add a bit of salt here but don’t let my husband know!) While it’s cooking add some chilli powder (shhh) and roasted cumin powder (shhhh) in. When everything looks good, add the peas. Okay you’re done with the beef so line the bottom of a lasagna pan with it. Add a layer of corn on top.
Set the oven to broil at 450 degrees.
I hope all you sisters and brothers who don’t know how to cook for beans or how to cook beans either, are following all this. The potatoes, now. When the potatoes are all done (when your voilà-ing knife can pierce right through a piece and it’s like so simple to do so) then drain it but leave a little bit of water in. Add a biggish chunk of butter into the pot of potatoes – like about the size of 3 baby carrots put together – and then add some milk while you’re mashing the potatoes with your potato masher:
or use a wooden spoon. Mash it all up until it’s MASHED POTATOES the way you like it. Now add the potatoes as neatly as you can (do it in bits) on top of the corn, brush some butter on top of the potatoes and put the whole thing to broil in the oven. Check it after about 5 minutes – if it’s lightly browned here and there, it’s ready.
Let me know if anyone tried zis simple, humble, fusion-fiesta pie.
Who knew Jury duty could open up your (my) eyes to the hundred and one things you could be doing had you not been on Jury duty? Once released, I sprang upon my soul’s artistic pangs (and dramatic pangs) and fiddled with my husband’s photography (see below), fixed up some decoupage I had done on my daughter’s allowance box (see below), fonted a mug for my brother, bought a spring coat, edited my dad’s writing super-quick and met/caught up with 3 friends. All in one day.
I promise, absolutely promise, insha’Allah to record what tomorrow brings. I am positively itching to do something dramatically artistic.
the lilacs are coming, the lilacs are coming
this is one of my all-time favourite pictures. like dandelions, seagulls are much maligned. here, they are given their rightful glory.
i like decoupaging. she’s from the swinging somethings (2o’s, 30’s, 80’s, take your pick)
At this ripe ol’ age of mine , I’ve discovered that science rocks! Science is actually an ibadat – to examine, realize, understand and uncover the magnificence of Allah’s creation is so invigorating.
I say this after having worked with my science-loving 8 year-old daughter on her science fair project. She insisted that she wanted to find the cure for cancer…I was like ok, I know it might be part of your genetic make-up to whip up last minute stuff (having a mother who started and finished a year’s worth of a 30 page research paper in 2 days while 7 months pregnant with a strange kidney ailment), but I don’t think we can pull THAT off in 5 weeks. So instead the focus shifted to cancer prevention.
Her interest in science excites me because everyone else in my family and her dad’s family are pretty much arts-oriented. My uncle with the 3 doctor (and 1 dentist) children would often ask my dad, what happened to your kids? How come everyone ran away from the “hallowed” field of science?
If anyone could have done it, my sister, with her ever-inquiring mind and earnest quest for new research (and ability to retain it) would have made a fine doctor or researcher. Instead, she opted to follow her older siblings down the artsy route. I think once in a while she sighs about that decision.
As for me, I laugh at my inability to understand science – especially biology and chemistry – in the olden days. It felt so dead. I hated it. I struggled to come up with experiment ideas for classes and actually handed in an experiment on whether ice melts faster in open hot water or sealed cold water when I was in GRADE SEVEN! I laugh now but I cried then when I received a D on that ground-breaking project. It reminded me of a brilliant speech I heard from a science educator at a conference. He was speaking about how by junior high, science is not often taught in meaningful ways:
“If you ask a child in grade 1 to tell you about science, they answer it’s butterflies and water and windmills and if you ask them in grade 4, they answer it’s making cars and castle doors that move and if you ask them in grade 8, they say it’s period 7 on Mondays and Wednesdays.”
So, now as I see this awakening interest in science in my daughter, I hope to welcome and encourage it – and to engage in it with her (so that I can learn a thing or two myself). It is so exciting…did you know that I finally understand the scientific method?
* If you can, check out the Sultans of Science exhibit at the Ontario Science Center. It’s amazing and only on until the beginning of May.
Patience: the quiet road to wisdom.
“Burlap is a very itchy fabric.” – Jez
“Does it matter how beginnings begin?” – me
“The beef stew better be good.” – Jez
I have given myself the next two weeks to figure out next year. Starting officially in September of next year but technically in June of next year insha’Allah, I start a sabbatical of sorts – 1 year off work, paid (through a partial salary-deferment plan). Originally, my intention in enrolling in the plan had been to go back to school to study documentary film-making. Hence, the two week window to figure things out as graduate program application deadlines loom in the near horizon.
But recently, I’ve become unsure if that’s the way I want to go. So now I’m mulling:
1. documentary film-making
2. art school
3. holing myself up – literally, figuratively – to write full-time
4. starting a publishing venture
5. doing nothing except everything for those in my life (i.e. housewife-supermom extraordinaire)
I’m not really worried that I won’t come to a conclusion on what should be done; on my Umrah trip two years ago, I made extensive dua seeking guidance from Allah for my year off so I trust He will direct me to something worthy of my time and efforts. In His name, we live, struggle and die.
Moving on, I don’t know if it’s just the much anticipated time off work – it being the holidays – but I’ve been really itching to write again. Like a long story. So I’ve begun reading again in bits – offline, cozy in my bed, curled up with a book, south african dried pears and coconut water. I’m ashamed to admit that I’m finally trying Life of Pi. Other books in my reading line-up (I hadn’t noticed that I’d suddenly become a nibbling reader – a little bit from this book and that – as opposed to the inhaling-one-book-at-a-time type I was previous to matrimony entering my life once again) include the latest David Sedaris, the latest fluffy Sophie Kinsella, the Qur’an ‘f course, a book of award winning magazine feature articles and various women’s mags to get me re-excited about making dinner left-overs re-exciting for the fam. Besides the Qur’an and the book of meritorious articles, it’s all light fare. Will this mix of readings vault me to my writing space which has been inaccessible for a long while now? I don’t know.
And perhaps, you don’t care so…
I move on, further, to my six-word challenge. A challenge to myself firstly and then to others who may be in the writing rut I’ve been in a long time. Or you might not be in a rut just very busy as well. Here it is: I perchanced only recently on what others may have known about for a while now: the six word memoir and so, I challenge us to commit to writing at least six words a day, everyday. It could be to sum up the day, life or a teeny tiny thing.
My six words for today:
Hey, I actually just wrote something…
…I’ve been busy
1. being in love (go ahead, say/think/groan/spit out the AAAAWWWW).
2. avoiding writing report cards (that’s as of this minute)
3. reading-laughing and sharing Asmaa’s latest blog post with the hubby. Asmaa you are very funny.
4. watching my amazingly creative and handy husband transform our shared space into a comfortable, organized dream home.
5. cooking. And learning to tone down my spices and try different things. And learning new dishes from the husband. Who cooks. Like really really cooks.
6. being in love.
Besides all this, I’ve been blogging a lot in my head. And then I start talking about my writing ideas with my other half. And it all comes out and we discuss it and then it’s gone. The urge to write is gone.
Hmm, is being in love killing my blog?
“What will happen if I take my hijab off…?”
Dear sister (I think it was a sister) who typed this into a search engine which directed it to my blog somehow, I will try my best to answer this question…
If you take your hijab off and step outside, the wind (if there is one) will most probably sift through your hair.
As you sit there typing this question, “what will happen if I take my hijab off”, you are probably feeling anxiety, a small amount (or large) of guilt and true confusion. You have sought something…you wish to know what is right. Period. ?
I feel like being philosophical and theoretical now. I feel like telling you about the things I’ve learned about women, men, beauty, sex and beer. I feel like writing a Dove commercial for you. But if I tell you these things, it will feel like I am hitting you over the head with something.
Instead I can tell you what it feels like to be confident.
The confidence I feel when I am unhijabed is spectacular. It is as thick as mascara and yet as light and flippy as fringed-to the-side-hair-bangs. It’s as tight as my gym membership. It feels so good to know wearing the right cut and moving the right way has such a powerful effect. But I have to tell you…it is mostly based on the things I stroke on, point out to my hairdresser and fork out to the curiously capitalist yogis. It comes out of bottles and is continuously re-defined, matched to the undulating forms in magazines, screens, celebrity-sighting restaurants and the weirdly captivating mannequins at Zara. But, I am a woman with a penchant for such things so I exult in this confidence…only I am choosy.
I know me and I know if I choose to spent my whole time unhijabed, I will drown in my own confidence. I’ve almost literally drowned once when I was a child so I know the feeling of almost utter suffocation – except in this case, it would be suffocation by self-absorption. I know I will eventually forget God. So I quietly wrap a cloth around my head, adjust various clothing items, utilize some safety pins and step out of the realm of the manufactured into the realm of the simply refined. My thick, light, flippy, tight unhijabed self is shelved, reserved for the ones who truly will enjoy it the most – myself and my man.
The confidence I feel when I am hijabed is spectacular. It appears so slight in its stance but its fortitude is often unmatched in a room of other women. We, hijabis, know this secret – the ones other women tell us: we are the strongest, most confident women they have ever met…we? Yes, we walk in a train of women who wind around the world and fade back in time into the streets of Yathrib and beyond. Wearing the hijab, I always remember I belong to a sorority of women who believe. And who buy in to certain things – lots of things in fact…but mostly we buy into the fact that the Creator of our bodies, hair, beauty and femininity knows about them the most. He knows about its use and abuse – by others, by us, by society.
He knows about women, men, beauty, sex and beer. And about Dove commercials. And about how much we women have bought into the idea that the use of our sexual beauty is our single most powerful tool. It is a powerful tool but, publicly, only in the hands of those who are endowed with it and endowed with it in its current en vogue model – full lips? check, long legs? check, flat chest? strike.
Instead, I choose to buy into His idea of leveling ourselves…of using our covered beauty to collectively wield a more powerful tool: that of autonomy over the swaying, constantly changing, ghettoing definition of womanhood. Oops, I’m sorry if I slipped into the theoretical and the philosophical…
The confidence I feel wearing the hijab is my confidence-of-choice. It is the one I select to utilize in moving through a world so fragile in its perception of the goals of life. Should I have chosen the confidence of my unhijabed self to manoeuvre through life, it would have been harder for me to hold on to this deen and its single most beautiful goal: to earn His pleasure through worship and through serving His creation.
So sister, if you take your hijab off and step outside, the wind (if there is one) will most probably sift through your hair. Simply because the merciful Creator of that wind let it be so.
At our little wedding reception, we got a gift which included a CD on gratitude to Allah. Tonight as I was listening to it with my children, I remembered the little blog my sister and I had started a long while back to log gratitude – mine, family’s, friends’, anyone’s…but which ran into some technical glitches – again a while back – and which then fell away from my list of to-be-tended-to-items. It was originally at www.favrs.net but is now to be found at www.favrs.wordpress.com. I think I’d like to keep it going, Insha’Allah.
Having gratitude on my mind, it was nice to read this post by my friend, S.W. on her blog…
Yesterday, I had one of the more beautiful mornings ever. It started off all frustrating but my son saved the day. God Bless him.
I am one of those people who for the most part keeps her home organized, but I have my moments. I have this one Tupperware cupboard that is a disaster. Every time I open it, stuff falls out. I tidy it up from time to time, but it just seems to go back to what it was, no matter how many times I clean it up.
Yesterday, I was running late. I was packing lunches. I needed Tupperware. I opened the cupboard, and a bunch fell out. On my head. I was frustrated, but I ignored it and put the Tupperware back. Then I realized I forgot to take out one for the children’s lunch. So I open the cupboard again and you guessed it, they fell on my head again. This time I was VERY frustrated, but tried to stay calm. (The children, were after all, sitting in the kitchen, eating cereal and watching me).
I put the Tupperware away (neater this time), and I closed the cupboard. I then realized that I left the lid in the cupboard, and I open it and….you guessed it. A Tupperware fell on my head.
Now normally I would laugh it off, but I was:
- Late for work
- Still had to pack lunches
- Frustrated at myself for letting this happen a third time
- Annoyed that I don’t have more cupboard space.
So what do I do? I shout. “OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. GIVE ME A BREAK ALREADY!!!”
I turn. I look at the children. I turn back. I put the Tupperware back in the cupboard. I feel a tug on my sleeve. I turn, I hear music. I see my son standing before me. He went to the CD player and put on one of my favourite songs.
It was Louis Armstrong, It’s a Wonderful World. I get teary eyed. I look at him. He smiles. “Don’t worry mommy. Just start the day over”.
I smile. I hug him. I tell him how much I love him.
He made my day. I’m so glad to have him in my life.
Ahem, I think/hope I am back to blogging. After a hiatus/partial-hiatus of many moons of busyness, I hope (my fingers, legs and eyes are crossed on this one!) to show some real commitment to mon blog.
So I’m gonna begin the blog revival by introducing Jez B. Gariepy – a Montreal photographer/designer I met some time back in…hmm, I think it was on the last day of the year 2007 at 10:24 p.m. and 14 seconds (roughly). You can see his photography at his flickr account: Jez Gariepy. His work ranges from shots of nature in its serene stillness and in its engrossing activity to wide-ranging and misty landscapes to… my favorites – gritty urban scenes and abstract fragments. He…I mean, his work, is awesome. Word has it that he’s in the process of setting up a site for his photography and design work. Stay tuned.
Okay I’ll ‘fess up – he’s my hubby! Now I’m blushing so excusez moi…
Looking forward, insha’Allah to many things…getting married, blending families, sharing and more sharing. Also, looking forward to Ramadan, the most beautiful of months which is just around a-not-so-distant corner. And I just love this ultra-cute children’s video of one of the blessings of Ramadan: increased time at the mosque.
The moment you walked inside my door
I knew I need not look no more
I’ve seen many other souls before
Ah but Heaven must’ve programmed you
~ Yusuf Islam Heaven/Where True Love Goes
*see Soulmate or Strollmate (But I believe Allah in His infinite mercy and exquisite grace has granted me a Soulmate AND Strollmate).
Here they are, our caterpillars all grown up.
Then letting them free:
Then freedom for a while…
This video on Muslim fashion designer Rabia Z is interesting, entertaining and will make you wanna run back to your ol’ sewing machine trailing interesting fabric and stuff behind you (if you were a wanna-be fashion designer back in the day like I was). I like the way she sounds confident in her ideas and beliefs. And she won the International Young Fashion Entrepreneur of the Year Award 2008! By designing modest clothing! In the fashion industry!
And I hear through the grapevine, having been too busy to check it out myself, that everyone’s favorite Hijabi clothing/hijab store, H&M (Hijabs&ModestClothingAvailableToo), has some really cool new scarves…
I think it’s time H&M actually gave in to reality and start putting signs in their red font that say: 
right above all those…those…hijabs. I mean have you really seen the rest of the world that interested in scarves as accessories…yes, besides the keffiyah-as-fashion-statement-or-political-statement controversy…it’s Muslim women that are keeping the scarf sales ringing, H&M. (And I can sell you the above sign at a modest, hijabi price.)
There are exactly 16 and a half teaching days of school left before the summer and I find myself thinking of friendships. Especially that moment when you realize someone has moved into the real friend territory of your heart; that part reserved for people who get you even with only a few words.
Some of my closest friends are those I speak to once a year or two if I’m lucky…but it just picks up where it left off, seemingly from the moment we met in grade 10.
I was thinking of this as I watched one of my students – a polite, but extremely quiet boy – strike up a very close friendship with a sweet, precocious (in a sweet way) girl in my class – only now, at the end of a whole school year. I just realized how inseparable they were getting today when she was worried about where he was at recess time. What an oddly nice couple, I smiled to myself.
Besides the season of friendships, this is the season of caterpillars once again in my classroom. We await their transformation and of course I have to think of that old saying, “just when the caterpillar thought its world was over…it became a butterfly.”
Here are some pics of the process so far:
each student got their own to observe
the leftovers
the leftovers as pupas (right now)
Those of you who are squeamish about these sort of things, I’m right with you there! I had to force myself, bravely in the name of grade 2 science, to get over my caterpillar phobia (it’s those zillion legs amidst the tarantula-like fuzzyness that does me in). Besides a slight shake to my hands as I do all the handling, my students would never know that 3 years ago I would have screamed had one landed on me.
When they become beautiful Painted Lady Butterflies and we release them to the sunshine, rainbows and sharp-eyed birds, I will post the captivating pics insha’Allah.
I’m still a bad, bad blogger it seems. Something is seriously going down if I can’t find the time to write. All I know is that for 2 weeks now I’ve been officially starting my days at 4:30 a.m. in order to get everything squished in. And still, I can’t find the time to write. So let me share instead…
I don’t know how I missed this neat entry into that (old) Muslim film contest (onenationforall.org/LinkTV) but I did. I like it because it resonates if you’re a-pray-any/everywhere-kind-of-muslim. And ain’t the ending just the nicest thing?
And, (Asmaa), here’s a peony
grown. harvested.
