- in the name of Allah -



Just having come back from Umrah, I am reminded of a few things. First, one never knows how much something is missed until it's no longer there. Second, the things we take for granted are often some of the things most worth thinking about. Third, spirituality in life is centered around finding a concrete middle path, not necessarily a high/low curve. Fourth, one's friends are oftentimes the bricks by which we construct the outline of living; that is, not in defining life but making inroads into progressing towards a better state. Fifth, and perhaps most importantly, Islam has no classes, modes, no extreme/moderate/liberal classifications: it is whole, complete, and free of error; only the preferences and desires of people lead them to one end or the other, though the best path will always be the middle.

I missed being in the States. Can you imagine that? I couldn't, until I left here and went to a 'developing' country overseas. Simply put, the believers living in America are blessed, and tried by those blessings in the same token. Remember the favors Allah has bestowed upon you!..before there should come a time where you remember what it's like to live without a home, or without a family, or without a dependable means of sustenance. The ills of this society are what we must change: it is not that by leaving the land in which we were born (or led to..I speak only to the ~18-24 generation) that we will find peace, but it is by trying to perfect the land we are living that we can be satisfied, insomuch as it is possible knowing our own weaknesses and shortcomings. It is clear enough that of what Allah has prohibited for mankind, we have to find ways to bring that light of understanding to the places where we live. Why? Because if we cannot find our true form here, our true purpose here first, then we will not find it anywhere else. It follows that before we seek to correct the ills of the society at large, the shortcomings of our own selves need first be addressed, again, insomuch as humanly possible. We cannot advise against usury, while bearing usury-bearing bank accounts. We cannot advise against the proliferation of indecency while immersing our selves and our families in such a state. We cannot advise a people to do good, while our own examples betray our advice. The self is, and always has been, the primarily necessitated focus that every conscientious individual must bear, as a burden meant not to bring us down, but to bring the moral and spiritual state of this country higher.

- in the name of Allah -



After the events of the past few days, I wonder: what is the purpose of pain in life? Is it in fact the means by which weakness leaves the body? Is it the defining characteristic of each individual's life, their attitude towards it? My molar was removed a few days ago, and in the 4 hours following it, before taking any medication, I experienced such a pain as one I have never recollected having before. It's intensity led me to ponder over a number of things. First was the 'worth' of life under such duress; could it, should it be possible, tolerable? Interestingly, the second question led me to the opposite direction: how life is made more worthwhile through the pain that is endured (as patiently as possible that is). If the purpose of pain is to make us stronger, why is it that so many seek to avoid it at all costs? Is this avoidance of pain in itself a weakness? It could be said that this is a product of the times, of the industrial age, where manual labor loses its respect. Concurrently, work that maximizes return for minimal effort is granted an ever higher place in society. Trends such as these are the beginning blocks of the normalization of failure, that start the trickling effect that compounds decadence and ignorance, making the melting pot no longer a melting pot, but a vent of volcanic steam.

- in the name of Allah -



you can't vanquish the vilified, for their eyes have already been marked closed as the curtains rise, so even though light shines, the rest of day for them is as truth becoming lies. teleport and apparate, jump the skies that planes have navigated, just find a wormhole where time isn't a crushing darkness of the necessitated. chained and bound even though the mouth is open there is no sound, only waves of empathy lost in translation as runes of mystics blurred by speech and linguistic irregularity. caves and pyramids hold the buried treasures, but without explorers the knowledge is as good as nonexistent, just another repercussion of carelessness gone irrevocably rampant. seize the blades before the sieves split open, revealing fate's nameless tokens and suddenly everything visualized becomes lost to the seasons. fill the empty basins with air, but still the pensieve's mist is more substantial so in effect what your putting in isn't really there. like Snape lamented the one part that was his to be played for the world to be saved, I'm reminded that saviors come in many colors and stripes, that even though I want to be a white knight, perchance blue and green may suit me more until falls this curtain of dreams. alas, it's then I can't see myself, my own reflection, not in the mirror of Erised, but that of Hturt, for the wavelengths might be abrogated, stuck in sub-warp speed leaving the image a vision in wonder and question serenaded. flee, flee to the chariot of apathy, take your courtier of courtesy to the shores of antiquity. my bird hasn't yet arrived, but you shall know when it has, made of flames, it doesn't burn but lights the path, awaiting the moment I yield the sword while myself a silver-green hue screaming 'there's none but One', in justice giving the hordes their due.