avoiding jealous ppl

Note.

I don’t shy away from trouble, but I shy away from jealous hearts.

With trouble, there’s always an opposite side of the coin, but with jealousy, nobody can show them through except themselves.  and I’d rather not rely on ppl to overcome their jealousy.  I’d rather be safe from them.

In trouble, there’s a chance of 70 excuses, forgiveness, or moving on.  whatever happens, you have freedom of choice.

In the heat of jealousy, there’s no protective shade to shelter you from the burning rays.

 

Punched in the face by hypocrisy

Bismillahi rahmani rahim

How should I start this.  Amidst the wonderful opportunities of meeting amazing people, I’ve also crossed-paths to discover instances that kinda broke my heart.  Hypocrisy.  My intention isn’t to point out the hypocrisy in others, rather it’s to recollect the sadness that I experience and find a window of sunshine through it.

I’ve been basically a hermit for the past few years ever since coming back from Bayyinah in 2013, and in general the circumstances in my life had left me with very little understanding of people and the outside world.

So all of a sudden since getting back in touch with the community and in general, life itself, I’ve discovered many uniquely spectacular people.  I fell in love with everyone that showed even a little bit of humanity and respect. I also found people I thought were inspiring and like-minded, like I’ve finally found the right crowd of people, -despite me still being the quirky oddball weirdo (my highschool personality still resonates from within) ,

erm so where was I..  yeah so there were some really cool people I met and I kinda looked up at em but then as I spent more time, things weren’t as I thought they’d be. Small uncanny surprises made their way and I actually realized how much I disagreed with these people.

Like a lot.

I thought maybe it’s a culture difference.  but nowadays, most people develop their own versions of culture.  idk yaar i’m just saying that when these people display Islamic practice and then I see some things that aren’t very islamic, more like not islamic, like un-Islamic.

it just kinda hit me.

One of the worst cases was when the Imam-uncle was straight up harrassing me for 4 hours when I told him my marriage was an insult to Islam and that info about my marriage is confidential information.

Like bro that aint how being an “imam” works.. ugh! this is why people hate Islam! he made me hate being born as a girl.  the misogyny and arrogance was fuming out of him.

that’s one of the extreme cases though.

There are lighter cases but I guess in this day and age, these are all nuances.  nobody cares.

I care tho.

eheh that’s why im writing about it.  I know I have my weaknesses, and I accept that when I do bad things, that they’re bad things, and I more than wish for others to not suffer from weaknesses like mine. But when you preach one thing and then show another thing, that’s when it’s messed up.

when you appear as a role model for youngsters, that’s when it’s messed up.

and when you talk a ton, say all these super ilm-y (knowledgey)  things, but then your actual demakh (mind, baal)  appears empty, that’s when it kinda just slightly punches me across the face in astonishment.

like there’s so much talk about taking a right turn, but then why do I see you limping to the left side of the street.

ur just another person to me now, but one who punched me in the face.  with good qualities and bad qualities, but one who punched me in the face.

I’ll pray for you and strive hard to educate others to not be like you, and most importantly, for me to not be like you,  somebody who admired you.

 

A secret, intentionally forgotten

Is chivalry a secret?

Silently preserved in the archives of patriarchy

Is a woman’s respect and honor a conspiracy as much as it is a horrid dream
You think you’re being casual but damn it I know what you’re doing

I’m not your bro or broski

It’s a projection to enjoy my reaction and feed yourself

I’m not your friend, I’m a woman with honor and dignity

Because I wouldn’t want anyone else treated like that, regardless of who they are.

Chastity isn’t only on the inside

It’s everything on the outside

Be loyal to yourself, let others be loyal to themselves as well.

The religious muslim: the Muslimous Muslim

In my philosophy, there’s no logic in saying religiousness for muslims.  In Islam, a muslim is a muslim. There’s no lesser muslim or more muslimy muslim.

We respect all muslims.  Need I mention, the exception is unless they’re ISIS. Then they’re not even Muslim.

If a muslim practices hijab, she’s a muslim. If she doesnt, she’s still a muslim.  If a muslim backbites, they’re stilla  muslim.  A bad one maybe, but still a muslim.  And so on.

The reason I think this is important is because it makes it seem like you’re allowed to judge other people based off how much Islam people practice.  When in reality, that’s ALL PERSONAL! except if you get into personal relationships with that person huhu

For me, telling me I’m a religious muslim makes me feel like my identity is split.  Part of “ME” has been placed into an adjective that can change any moment.

No, I’m a Muslim, and everything I do that is Islamic, is because I’m a muslim. the other stuff I do is from my personality and my ego.

I was inspired to write about this from this one article here:

http://tinyurl.com/mlr3jmt

resilience and tea

just had a sob attack.  an angry teary hangry attack. a half eaten brownie that was for me, triggered it (i was looking forward to it the whole night to have it for bf). I still have to go through my divorce thing and i have to find the right lawyer.  If i could, if I can, I’d get him deported. but it’s not worth the waste of money.  So in my delirious outburst of anger I wrote myself this thing

By God’s mercy

I refuse to let words hurt me
I refuse to let circumstances stop me
I refuse to fall hopeless
I refuse to let my weaknesses detain me
I refuse to fall victim to emotions
I refuse to let people’s abuse consume me
I refuse to let mindsets and corruption make me give up
I refuse to sit down and sob
I refuse to give in
I refuse to stop

By God’s mercy

I refuse to stop.

So then I made my mom a cup of tea.  cuz I left the kettle on as i was balling away

By God’s mercy, the tea saved me from my utter drop.

 

The Fine line in “That”

when we were kids
we used to tell each other
“I will never be like ‘that’
We didn’t want to be shameless
seeing it from pure eyes, we saw what “that” really looked like

and now we’ve grown
and You’re exactly like “that”  nice n simple
And there seems to be nothing wrong with it
As for me,
I’m something worse- I’m in between
I’m both “this” and “that”

thus drifted             slightly  apart.