- in the name of Allah -

From Assassin's Quest, 3rd book in the Farseer Trilogy:

"You've changed," I managed to say.

"Have I? I imagine I have. How could I not have changed? I thought you dead, and all my life for naught. Then now, this moment, to be given back both you and my life's purpose ... I opened my eyes to you and thought my heart would stop, that madness had finally claimed me. Then you spoke my name. Changed, you say? More than you can imagine, as much as you have plainly changed yourself. This night, I hardly know myself." 

Somehow, I can recall a few moments like this in life. Hard to describe the meaning in them without ending up babbling or rambling or otherwise seeming touched by madness myself, but they were momentous. Doubtless all of those times are just reminders from Allah keeping me afloat through difficulty. I survived nothing except that He was my aid, fell into nothing but that He pulled me out of it, found no door to good save that He willed it open. People who don't appreciate God simply don't grasp His favors, don't see into the wisdom that surrounds their daily lives. Life is just a series of tests to see who retains gratitude and humility before his Creator after those trials. Submission to anything besides Allah is humiliation and degradation, while submission to Him surpasses the beauty and depth of the universe itself.


- in the name of Allah -

Second day back at work, alhamdulillah it feels nice returning to a sense of normalcy. Also today, heard from an old friend that I hadn't spoken with in maybe 10 years. He'd moved to Cali after studying few years overseas, settled down there with wife and two kids. MashaAllah, good to be reacquainted. 

Otherwise had a few interesting dreams of the night before. In one, I'm dining with someone somewhere (felt like it was a particular someone, but then most dreams of mine with people seem particular-inclined), discussing fairly standard topics for me: the pain and price of waiting, outlook, perspectives, etc. All the while this is being talked about, I recall myself meticulously moving food (butter chicken) around with my spoon/fork, like to certain sides of the platter.  Delicious but ?_? Still it was quite serene and generally uplifting alh, though I wish I could have remembered if she said anything. In the other dream, I'm on this sort of ship or race course, competing with random people I don't recall, there's a bunch of sharp twists and turns like in a maze, and somehow I'm at the forefront. While I'm racing there's a conversation going on in my mind about something I built in the past and one part of me (or someone else) is wondering why my first spaceship hasn't been revisited, why the current one is taking so long to build. For some reason, the word 'spacey' comes to mind, some hunch that I'm building for the future.

Nothing really out-there, most of it I can place into personal context quite easily alh. As for the things I cannot, here's to hoping they're pleasant and longed-for surprises iA 🌹


- in the name of Allah - 

If life were a pair of scissors, with reality its blade,
then long have I been ribbons.

Freely flowing, untethered to this worldly plane,
just holding on to what I'm given.

Read over again, words with meaning laden,
alas were they a bowl of soup.

That I might find your presence a spoonful haven,
ready to fill stomach & sadness too.

I'm a Fool, but yet pray your smile always stays,
undaunted by joys to come.

For though I might glimpse tomorrow's tune,
its melody is born in the good today we've done.


- in the name of Allah -

"I knew the wisdom of Patience's course, but wisdom does not allay loneliness." 
- The Royal Assassin, Farseer Trilogy 

In all contexts, I find this is true. 

However, while wisdom may not allay loneliness, it does provide clues as to how best find the path that would resolve it. Life here was never meant or intended to be a cure for people, just a part of the journey we have to take. Like all travellers, take what you need from it and leave whatever isn't worth carrying. So that when we find our end, we have with us at least some most treasured deeds to show our Creator, perhaps found worthy of His mercy.



- in the name of Allah -

alas for the heart that can always bleed, alas for the ducts that never dry, some things are fated indeed, even if then we never understood the why. 

my pens have not run out of ink, the soul has yet to bequeath the ocean all its waves, enough time still for me to breathe, ruminate how to be His truer slave.

without question or doubt the color is red, in the veins from before I was born, till long after the body is dead, awaiting when we're joined instead.

as one stalwart support I've now lost, these hopes remain my wings, to keep afloat with what only Allah gives, to survive this journey despite its cost.

my end, oh Rabb, bring it near, make me not walk this road too long, that I ever approach again despair, nor make anguish again a lasting song.

my dream, oh Rabb, is only Yours to keep, You Who gave it life, You Who made it purely gleam; of all others am I bereft, so to You only do I plead: plant it firm, growing underneath the Shade of Your Throne, native to the Seventh in origin and form, guarded always by Ar-Rahmanir-Rahim, Ameen.


- in the name of Allah - 


no way to describe this hole that was once always filled, words of 'condolences' and words in general, of even less substance than previously imaginable. there is no voice for me to utter, no way to encapsulate, the meaning or measure of a man, who lived before I'd been conceived by fate. rarely liked, loved always, a fortress against the winds of life, his was a hand more likely to strike in punishment than with tenderness hold, such was the way of one who'd lost his mother early on long before he'd grown. of flaws and faults, layers of subjective insufficiency, I could go on, but all of those now matter naught, the earth of his grave is now his home. what lingers on, his legacy in my veins, blood I never asked for but given by my Rabb all the same, that I might perchance take heed of lessons once let slip through fingers into sands of time now vanished, to build on the good he had, not repeat his mistakes, to diffuse the anger, mellow suspicion, and pour blissfully cold water over hate, letting fall away the grudges his generation so easily made.

I am the me of always, one who lives, who loves, who remains, seemingly till dunya itself grinds away all our better ambitions to dust with its ever luring gaze. at times my aim seems too high, too grandiose, spectral imaginings by a ghost yet mortal of longing utterly beyond his scope: of places quite near to the Throne, of palaces for queenly Beacons and hands of peerless Hoors for mine to hold, of such company in knowledge and purity and truth, as nearly shames me to compare my love to what they do, but it is so: such are they who encompass the best of humanity, who take my ideals to their fullest, giving breadth of meaning meant by being Allah's best of creation.

I long for that place, knowing well I am less than pauper for the price it needs paid, that the sum of all my life's deeds could by one hour of those elevated be met or exceeded, that I am not even the wolf howling at the moon's reflection in a lake whose depth I cannot begin to fathom, a place so vast in its beauty and essence, a thousand lifetimes of mine would not suffice to build a bridge worthy of its entrance. so why would a lowly slave long for such a Home when he's barely worth the shelter of a cave? it is: because his soul mines in those caverns diamonds he's never seen but by their dust their brilliance he's known; because the light inside him, now condensed where once it scattered, pulls with a force towards its ilk that nothing on this earth can measure or mold or fracture; because though he knows not how he'll find death, the mercy of his Rabb shelters all his hopes, and so with Him are they all gathered.


- in the name of Allah -

[wrote much of this a few days ago, maybe Saturday, did not foresee the irony of being physically near my dad's actual tombstone so soon. such is the Qadr of Allah, He does as He wills.]

written on the tombstone of my soul:

'in this life was he never whole, 
parted like the seas he'd never seen,
a command to Be, and it split in twain,
away went the half, which was not his own;

so the rest of time which to him remained,
he sought to reunite the rhine- with its -stone,
planting in patience the seeds of pain, slowly grown,
that from their embers, roots might spring forth,
to reach at last the comfort of a long-lost Home;

all he ever felt, all he ever wrote,
were but reminders from his Rabb,
signs and blessings, remembrance to be kept close.

life would bring its tragedies, would pour forth its sorrow,
like a cloud releasing burdens, upon a field grown sallow,
so this ground, his soul, might soak up all the rain,
yet still choose to submit to Him, for He was both the means,
and the Aim.'



- in the name of Allah -

Earlier today, dad passed away - inna lilAllahi wa inna ilaihi raaji'un. It was coming for quite some time, like how cancer typically does. 

Don't see the moment being any easier, though I'd long accepted its inevitability. Death comes for every human being, there's no escaping it, no denying it. Even if a person can deny resurrection or Judgment or anything else, there is no denial of death. It's the final equalizer between all living beings on this earth. 

Alas that he got to see the haq before I do, became acquainted with the ghaib before me. May Allah forgive him all of his sins, make his grave an easy and spacious resting place, and save him from An-Naar, ameen. 



- in the name of Allah -


One of the most disgusting things I've ever read in Pakistan/South Asian news. Ordering rape in response to a rape? An absolute lack of justice delivered by a local council which defeats the purpose of its own existence. This has NO PLACE anywhere, let alone in a country claiming Islam as its religion. 

Let every Muslim alive know that a non-Muslim who does justice is BETTER than a Muslim who does injustice, your religion does not make you immune from accountability! 

May Allah ease the suffering of the victims at the hands of their ignorant misguided oppressors, and lead them to a way out of this darkness, ameen.




- in the name of Allah - 

Alhamdulillah, met an old friend from decades ago today, see if something worthwhile can be built from this reconnection. We'd drifted apart, though to me it felt like whenever we met over the years none of the time or distance mattered, could just be me and expect him to be him. Turns out I was incorrect, he didn't hold the same classification anymore, mainly because for him people had to stay in touch and be there for when things happen in life that enables him to unreservedly say, yeah we're close. Can't say that perspective is wrong, it is true for him and maybe most people. While I have a number of bridges needing this rebuild attempt, this will be first iA. Laying out on the table all of one's cards isn't always the best of ideas, but I've never been a gambler and I despise the duplicity required for it. This simply is just another part of me, to approach people as completely as I can, and if that acceptance and resonance is found, then alhamdulillah and may it be a source of khair; if not, then it's the qadr of Allah and He does as He wills, though there is a lament for every lost mirror that cannot be reclaimed. 


- in the name of Allah -

Avian - [trying to] Fly On

every bird is born with two wings, he doesn't know it growing up, but whether flesh or figurative, they both carry immensity in blessings. whether two parents or two beacons, both illuminating the road in life with love unconditional and eternal, creating a longing and absence when they seem to the bird to be even a shade less bright or in dusk slightly dimming. without question, one's parents must pass, so too will beacons fade from sight of the eyes, making endless seem the darkness rising from an ever-lightless sky.

nearly blind, a moment before his path lit but now drowning in the pitch black unknown, eyes are open but he swears they're closed. pleas disguised as shrill screams pour forth from a throat not able to handle what being a mortal means: tried and tested beyond all notions of wholeness or partial acceptance, with warning of Hell below this bridge for ones unrepentant, but just outside of hearing, a call to Heaven at the other side, angels standing in welcome for the persevering, leading to treasures perfectly selected and unfathomed by human minds.

this bird can't recall all of the favors, effortlessly showered on his soul by his Creator, scattered across all his life like pearls largely unopened and preserved, without trademarks but all inherent with reminders of what's owed to his Maker: every mention of praise and shukr; if He hadn't placed in him this wish, to reach for all these heavenly doors, grand palaces surrounding by bliss, some leading to company elect, and many to heavenly Hoors,...then maybe he'd have become Icarus, flying higher towards worldly whim and worldly desire, noticing all too late his two wings had melted, the fall prepared for him only Fire.


- in the name of Allah -

Random musing from today: 

If the world didn't have pain, would people ever want to leave it? Would they ever feel the need to strive for anything better?

I figure this is one of the hidden wisdoms of the difficulties in life and how the pain from them gives human beings constant motivation for something better. Of course we try to alleviate these things in our worldly affairs if we can, take a pill here or use a band-aid there, and even if we cannot help stopping it, we still feel a need to be removed from it, to find a place of safety and freedom from worry. 

There isn't a better end or recourse for one who follows and feels this train of thought, than to want and work for Jannah. Allah made it a place that would be wanted, a reward for the ones who sought His pleasure over their own in this existence. Alas that I am human and the permanence of this state yet eludes me, but alhamdulillah infinitely-fold that moments can be found where this knowledge is appreciated and endeavored.


- in the name of Allah -

may never see the next sunrise, may never watch again the tides roll in, life is for none of us guaranteed, so we keep onward struggling. 

how great is the irony, of one who loves to find wisdom everywhere he goes, yet is perhaps the greatest fool, this world has ever seen or known? in how many shades can he paint, with how many letters various lines compose, until his repetition fails to find in other hearts, the intent he sought of repose?

oh Allah, life appears so shallow, such a superficial plane, that when I take a step and think the stair is close, I stumble and lose what I'd gained in a single stroke. by Your sight ever-piercing, by Your might ever-matchless, how can I communicate with those beloved, when all I say seems jumbled madness? I cannot begrudge this moment You give me, to recollect in isolation, thoughts of remembrance and reflection, but oh Allah, I am one dying of thirst while seeking drink from another's soul, with just words that cannot stand alone.

oh Allah, I beg You for a fountain that never dries, to whom I can give, at least as much as she provides, so that we two contrasting peaks, despite the distances, might together off that same ledge leap. 



- in the name of Allah -

If all I ever composed, were but reasons to survive, then I'd guess my purpose might just be enough, to make our way through the narrow tunnels of this life. 

Darkness stole no light, forever in her eyes it remains, because Allah made the rods and cones, and the souls which shine in place. 

There are no reasons left to swallow fear, or soothe her mind with lies, Truth is all there ever was, for His slaves it's all there is to find.

And of the truth is this, that an end with Him is what I seek, so I might find His ridwaan and Gifts, alongside our homes with rivers underneath.


- in the name of Allah -

Someone once asked the Prophet (saw) why he made istighfaar so often, when Allah already forgave him all of his sins. His (saw) reply was that should he not be a grateful slave to Allah.  

I didn't pick up on this point till not that long ago, but the immediate and direct connection is made in his (saw) answer, linking seeking forgiveness from Allah as being equivalent to being grateful to Him. Note these are two distinct concepts. Gratitude is typically "thank you", not "forgive me". But in our relationship to Allah, all the good we do, especially the essential part of always seeking repentance, counts for us as being grateful slaves to Allah. Connecting these dots didn't click at first, but eventually the realization comes that in seeking Allah's forgiveness there is acknowledgement of one's flaws and a statement of one's constant need of Allah's help, in all aspects of life. The best way an 'abd of Allah claims his status as such is recognizing and continually making istighfaar, a kind of side course into shukr which I find amazing mA, as the obvious methods would be saying alhamdulillah, subhanAllah, etc.


- in the name of Allah -

It is never as bad as it seems, never as worrisome as it appears. For me, this is at least especially true because when I compare the blessings I have on one hand versus what fitan I experience on the other, the scale is ridiculously in favor of the things my Rabb has given. I have so many reasons to just say alhamdulillah and let the hardships just fall away. Sure they might come back and pester time and time again, but that doesn't diminish the blessing at all. Just I need to remind myself how much truly Allah has gifted me, the people I've gotten to know, the family I can love despite anything and everything, the light He gave me that stays on shining no matter my nafs' attempts to ruin it. Invariably, His mercy and will far exceed my pitiful rebellions, and truly, maybe, this is the most important thing to be grateful for, that Allah allows one not to drown by their own mistakes, that He gives them continual paths outside of the corners we paint ourselves into. 

It also never ceases to amaze me the route I took to find this moment in time. It's one thing to have cared for another deeply over time, and not just in the typical capacities of family and old friends, but in the most rarest instances where the hearts embrace the truth, sustain it in one another, reinforce the best aspects, creating one good that leads to another good, leading to another, and another, and so on..until truly it is as if there is nowhere else such a connection can lead to except to Allah, the most desirable end for any who have sound minds and hearts. What makes this so stunning is the reciprocity. I can't say I ever deserved it, but these presently-slightly-distant bonds upheld a mutually similar regard that retains, by Allah's grace, the most important feature of calling back to Allah, establishing reasons and a vision that extends beyond time itself into the immortality of Akhirah. 

Truly, if these beacons didn't call me to Allah, they'd be no good for me. I've heard it said or read that either something calls to good or evil, to Allah or the shayateen. While I cannot grasp the full import of what seems in-between, from what can be discerned this is no doubt true. Yet another bounty from my Rabb that He made me what I am, lead me to know who I have, that He guided and protected the inherent goodness from being corrupted, such that I yearn now as I always have, to find truth, love knowledge, seek an end worth seeking, and ultimately bi ithniAllah find repose with them underneath the shade of His throne. May Allah make this always so, and complete for me all of my aims in the best of ways, ameen.


- in the name of Allah -

"in the end, words are just wind", so it was once said but this is not what I think, words are keys to the soul, unlocking inner thoughts preserved within. without words all we would have is a world of silence, less potential for anger or hurt, sure, but without the truth or emotion that makes us more than just animalistic or mindless. to me, words are the perfect kind of mortal's clay, where we can fashion from lesser parts and pieces a more noble purpose and picture that keeps precious moments in focus and stilled in painting, while all around us life continues to change, altering in shape. with words I can freeze-frame capture the intents I'd otherwise be left to let internally simmer, slowly boiling over the brain while roasting the heart over a fireless dinner, a sum of expressions overcooked and overstated by failures. but! fortunate for me that Allah gave me this ability to think and keep on writing, while gravity is ever-grounding and this life by its distances overcrowding, I can formulate with letters the Wings and mechanisms to visualize what's far better, elevating a hope that my meaning soars by His permission, landing in the chests of those keeping torches lit through these lifetimes of winter.


- in the name of Allah -


covered in blessings from the ground to the heavens, whether in sin or repentance, my existence is tempered so long as He has my soul tethered, to a ship that can't sink like a chain without links, so no part of it breaks, so long as I hold fast to His rope, and know my everything He already owns. whether in flight or in falter, fancy or furor, apathy or agony, His qadr reaches past it all, pulling me back from my wish to slip between the seams and bury the senses in senselessness right alongside my dreams. He is my Guide back from the farthest of ledges, my Sustainer when energy drains from muscles leaving the will flaccid and flightless, my Light if I ever chase darkness down the deepest of abysses. even if I composed couplets from every one of His names, to try and trace how the mercy falls like droplets of rain, my words will always fall short of their aim. what I'm able to state compared to His grace, a candle's glow, blown out by the wind, with His truth as rays of light endlessly pouring from the sum of all suns, regardless of clouds or orbital distance, a divine magnanimity perpetually saving me from myself and being undone. no mortal could ever fathom all of what He's provided, sheltered from catastrophes, opened doors of salvation, allowed me to at least appreciate His guidance without hesitation, let me survive a whiff of love and its loss yet still manage to hold hope in abundance. all of these favors, delectable fruits whose flesh can effortlessly be savored, with just a little attention, because He made both the tongue and the taster. would that I never forget for a moment any portion of the blessings and ease, that such recollections help carry me through times of angst and apathies, enabling me to show Him at least enough gratitude to be forgiven my flaws, finding in His ridwaan all the best of what I've ever sought, alongside the company of those who loved and lived with Him as their Cause. -ameen


- in the name of Allah -

Eid Mubarak! :)

Beacon, the First: Noor ul Qamar
finished 6.25

For any weary traveler, taking the road at night,
There are few things more precious, 
Than when the skies are clear,
And upon the path he walks,
Shines his moon with its light.

To describe this glow, one might call it sweet,
Never bitter to the senses,
Or one might call it vibrant,
A kaleidoscope of joy from guidance,
Or one might call it soft,
Never blinding his eyes, or leaving him sightless.

For such a lamp, to keep its place in one's cosmos,
While all around galaxies are born, or fade to dust in smoke,
Needs only our Creator, He Who made them both.

Were it not for Allah's mercy, were it not for His generosity,
If left to my own devices, without Him, myself alone,
Without any question or doubt, I'd destroy my deeds, 
And leave my heart in pieces, without a home.

So it is, that when I recall this moon of mine, 
I cannot help but be grateful to my Rahim, 
Who placed in my horizon, that which always shines:
A beacon towards Firdaus, with one's hopes brought to life.

- Ya Allah, forgive me and my ummah of all our sins, guide us always on Siratul Mustaqeem, accept from us all of our good deeds, and join me in Firdaus with my beacons, ameen ya Rabbal-'aalamin.


- in the name of Allah -

Random thought from yesterday:

For the one who seeks life, he is chased by death. 
For the one who seeks death, life chases after him.


- in the name of Allah -

From the end of "The Weaver's Lament", last book in 'Symphony of Ages':
“Come!” she called once more. Her
voice was musical, but held none of the
power of the ring of the Namer. Her eyes
met his, and her smile broadened.
“Come with us, if you want to live!”
As the gate crumbled before his eyes,
and the sea began to rush in, Achmed’s
heart leapt, and he could not help
He threw his head back, as he had
never before done in his life, and began
to laugh uproariously.
Then he ran for the doorway and
climbed through it.
Into arms that were waiting to
embrace him.
Welcoming him.

After all his journeys through
darkness, above and below the surface
of the Earth, into the Light.


 Through a story that was sometimes great, sometimes annoying in its repetition, I have to say this ending fits. Perhaps fits me more than can be imagined, as I seek also the end of my journey, a path to Allah that finishes my time on earth into Truth that calls me so strongly existence begins to pale in comparison. But yet His qadr is I live, keep breathing for purposes of finding guidance, maybe give a little reflection and hope to any and all of my beloved, that a desire to meet Al-Haq be lit in their bones as well as mine. Ultimately, where are we going, if not back to Him from whence we came?


- in the name of Allah -

there's no medications for me to take, no way to end this dissonance, that keeps me, so out of place.
like how all humanity can suffice with pills and remedies, to snuff out what their souls can't stand, so they can feel as they please; I have no such off-switch, no means to keep the nafs in line, beyond what strength the heart deigns to give, in rare cases it hasn't yet encased itself in ice. fitan, trials of tests measuring mettle and essence, seems like I can only fail them all, as shallowness abounds me in abundance regardless of efforts. what good are any depths I might find, any wisdoms I learn, if alone in me they're left, with none else to share and discern? how can I reach any other soul, when this age I've come to, is when folk let die their dreams, making normalcy their abode?


- in the name of Allah -

Still breathing, still alive, beyond my own will there's forces my self keeping, standing, walking, eating, while the rebel in me that disdained forever this cage, screams in unspent rage at things he cannot do or have or say, of tests looped ad infinitum, while nearly driven to madness like a cup overflowing to brim. A friend wished once he was a blade of grass, though on such a grounded wish I'd surely pass, for myself I'd be the birds and their wings, carried off by wind and will, to places nearby or places beyond human reach. Always the air, whether in storms or weather fair, always a route to be found for the avian with energy to expend, if it ever sought to find Elsweyr.

These lungs, they're borrowed, same as the skin and the bones, both the hollow and marrowed, these cells and physiologies, keeping in pace the rhythm of hearts and the body's means, no credit of mine to take wherein there's nothing there I made, but still the soul seeks its breeze, flapping against currents only it can feel and see, trapped betwixt the ledge of this never-ending Present, and where tomorrow like a (sometimes fading) fancy gleams. Agony is my cellmate, so long as I live in life and breathe, becoming the blanket for when comes the chill of things left distant still, pervading through  stones and seeping through barred windowsills.

If there's one plea I can always make, whether the heart beats, or lies buried at stake, it is that an end to the dissonance between existence and myself, is not far off the course in time for me to help, that I never linger in life for a second more, than qadr itself has for me in store.


- in the name of Allah -

While I find myself utterly lacking for its qualification, I have to say the Akhirah pulls at me like only the best of Allah's gifts could:

The recitation, audio, visuals, everything..subhanaAllah


- in the name of Allah -

Alhamdulillah, Ramadan. Not the funnest time of year, but one where it's easiest to find moments of spiritual reflection. Though to me it always seemed to reinforce the sense of a prison on top of a prison (on top of a prison), that doesn't take anything away from the opportunities it gives. 

Each second, every minute, represent little gateways to improving or creating a connection to Allah, a concept so vast its true benefit and import can never really be grasped. Still worth it. Human beings are limited in the time and space and frame of mind and expectation (or lack thereof) of their daily existence, so we can never fully appreciate the kinds of favors we're shown. But they're still there, waiting for us to make some mention of shukr to Allah. 

As of late, I've been fairly even-tempered in most aspects. Still not able to tap into the emotional depth as I had some weeks back, but I suppose this is partly due to the inherent need people have to connect that finds itself always kinda limited in my case. Dad's health is getting worse-ish, chemo treatments aside, it's as if there's little left but preparation for the end. It might be that eventuality links in to my current state, giving some reasoning for its distanceness, difficulty in being able to hold any emotion for any length of time. It's extremely ironic: those who'd seek to escape and avoid their mortality find it in front of them, yet those who'd embrace their impending end find it only ever out of reach, secretly hidden in a vault of the future they're not privy to. Alas. 

I've also recently deduced I can't exactly keep my entire focus on tomorrow, on hopes of Jannah, as much I'd want. For if I did, as I have a bit recently, then I sort of lose sight of a great deal of what's in front of me, and maybe worse, I want deeply to be disconnected from what is the present and find myself in tomorrow, a paradox because tomorrow is by definition slightly out of reach for me, and like the hamster on its wheel I'm stuck constantly engaged in living in the present. There's no getting around these aspects of the mortal coil, much as I wish it wasn't, much as the soul longs to be free of its physical cages. But, alhamdulillah, I can still sometimes look forward, see into a place just barely imagined, and it serves as just enough fuel for the moments I now inhabit. Just enough that the torches lit haven't vanished, just enough that my Haq calls me to Him in tones always repeating. 

One of the things most endearing about my deen, and there are so many, but one of its most beautiful and beneficent aspects is in this hadith: "The Messenger of Allah صلى الله عليه وسلم  said, “The supplication of a Muslim for his brother in his absence will certainly be answered. Every time he makes a supplication for good for his brother, the angel appointed for this particular task says: `Ameen! May it be for you, too’.” [Muslim]. " So all one has to do is make dua for his fellow brethren, and that same good automatically comes back to him, a built-in mechanism to combine the aspects of selflessness and selfishness in the best possible way: wanting good for others and for ourselves, by means of making dua for others. Can it get any easier than that? Not at all. The magnanimity in Islam is so far surpassing anything humans could devise, always calling to the inherent good in us. 

Alhamdulillah. Have a few epics to write, one for later this month and another for Septemberish. InshaAllah, should be interesting ( : o