- in the name of Allah -
I saw this browsing through BBC, and I just couldn't pass it up..
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/7422900.stm
"...Reports said King Gyanendra and Queen Komal were seen driving out of the royal palace on Tuesday afternoon, but it was not clear where they were going or for how long they would be gone."
LOL, with a hindu, reincarnated Vishnu, no less!
5.28.2008
5.21.2008
- in the name of Allah -
sometimes the role we take is more important than the role we desired to play. it may not be that our own interests are served because of it, but surely, we gain more from it and feel better about it once something else is given preference to our own nafs. it's weird, that in a heart never preferential to malice or envy, it feels even less of these emotions than possible.
I can really only be there, as a "beloved spiritual nudger", "rock", "holyman", or whatever else is needed from me at the time. how utterly strange this part of my character is to me. a friend once described me as being the type of person that could be anything that another might need from me, whether it be space, an ear, a wall, an outlet, etc.
perhaps my role in this world isn't one who will find his 'one', but help many others find their way. could that be balanced, fair? in my opinion, perfectly so.
sometimes the role we take is more important than the role we desired to play. it may not be that our own interests are served because of it, but surely, we gain more from it and feel better about it once something else is given preference to our own nafs. it's weird, that in a heart never preferential to malice or envy, it feels even less of these emotions than possible.
I can really only be there, as a "beloved spiritual nudger", "rock", "holyman", or whatever else is needed from me at the time. how utterly strange this part of my character is to me. a friend once described me as being the type of person that could be anything that another might need from me, whether it be space, an ear, a wall, an outlet, etc.
perhaps my role in this world isn't one who will find his 'one', but help many others find their way. could that be balanced, fair? in my opinion, perfectly so.
5.16.2008
- in the name of Allah -
It's official: I have lost the power cord to this laptop. I am now writing and browsing on borrowed time. The battery icon tells me I have a few hours left, but not only is that not enough to last me, it probably isn't true either. My trillian is acting up and refusing to connect half the time, limiting my access to MSN, AIM, and other services which connect me to the outside world. Granted, I can open my front door and walk outside and I'd not have to worry about the outside world being too far. That would be dandy, if it wasn't for the fact that the outside world I'm looking for happens to be thousands of miles away; it might take a few years' walking/swimming distance. The last few posts I've made, don't seem to be so relevant presently. The stimulus for those outbursts of thought, seems now trapped in a different dimension, a different time. Imagine, a lifetime lived in two days' span. Possible? I might say so, if I can correctly interpret myself in these past few days. It wasn't that the light rain that fell wasn't enough to wash away the dust and debris, but the ground was so thirsty, it soaked it all up as soon as it fell. Who'da thunk it?
What's somewhat ironic is that as I read these lines I'm writing I notice an influence and essence that isn't my own, a style that I don't usually use. A kind of story-like narrative, sporadically sarcastic, noted for undertone and metaphor. My writing, my own personal writing, is direct and self-explanatory; to understand this, one would need a background manual. The notion is insidious, but just so subtly dramatic. Whatever. I have composed a few lines for the 27th, but I think I will have more, much more written by then. Who knows, maybe I'll finally be able write a masterpiece that I haven't felt the need to do for quite some time.
I think I'll go look for that power cord again.
It's official: I have lost the power cord to this laptop. I am now writing and browsing on borrowed time. The battery icon tells me I have a few hours left, but not only is that not enough to last me, it probably isn't true either. My trillian is acting up and refusing to connect half the time, limiting my access to MSN, AIM, and other services which connect me to the outside world. Granted, I can open my front door and walk outside and I'd not have to worry about the outside world being too far. That would be dandy, if it wasn't for the fact that the outside world I'm looking for happens to be thousands of miles away; it might take a few years' walking/swimming distance. The last few posts I've made, don't seem to be so relevant presently. The stimulus for those outbursts of thought, seems now trapped in a different dimension, a different time. Imagine, a lifetime lived in two days' span. Possible? I might say so, if I can correctly interpret myself in these past few days. It wasn't that the light rain that fell wasn't enough to wash away the dust and debris, but the ground was so thirsty, it soaked it all up as soon as it fell. Who'da thunk it?
What's somewhat ironic is that as I read these lines I'm writing I notice an influence and essence that isn't my own, a style that I don't usually use. A kind of story-like narrative, sporadically sarcastic, noted for undertone and metaphor. My writing, my own personal writing, is direct and self-explanatory; to understand this, one would need a background manual. The notion is insidious, but just so subtly dramatic. Whatever. I have composed a few lines for the 27th, but I think I will have more, much more written by then. Who knows, maybe I'll finally be able write a masterpiece that I haven't felt the need to do for quite some time.
I think I'll go look for that power cord again.
5.14.2008
- in the name of Allah -
for the first time in a long time, I am posting on consecutive days. interesting, the forces that compel me here, but relatively unremarkable in the grand scheme of things. I'm still fully digesting the events of yesterday, just what it means, just how I relate, just how far to invite a (former?) stranger inside a place where I allow few to go. the first step is already in motion. a blog that I've kept since one my more fateful years that has only a handful of posts but no viewers besides myself is now potentially open. why? I imagine it is for the purposes of understanding, and the completion thereof. suffice it to say, barring any unforeseen dramatic exits, this singularity will know much of me almost willingly or otherwise. lol
no, this is not a mirage of love, or some vain concoction like it. if I could try explaining this phenomenon, it would have to be an amalgamation of minds - the first time I can ever say it has happened with someone else. I need not say that I have been searching for some intellectual equal, male or female, from amongst mankind as long as I can remember. one who can write and understand, along somewhat parallel wavelengths, where I seek growth and how life has progressed to the present moment. empathy among people with a real ability to think and decide, is truly rare. one of the only few questions I am left with, is how long would Allah choose to have me taste this sweetness before either it becomes as one with me, or disappears like the mirage of night it first appeared to be. no, it isn't that I question Allah. I've come too far, understood too much, to allow such foolishness fit for lesser minds to hamper my self actualization. some things in life are decreed, howsoever much we may wish them a certain way. while it may not make me happy to know such times, my acceptance of them and knowledge of their necessity as a trial in this life, makes it mostly gravy. still, I am wondering, at this time of early morning, whether I will find this equal again, whether our words will meet as raindrops in a spreading drought or as snow shards left in the upper reaches of atmosphere: will it melt and reform into one, or be blown by gusts of fate to directions unknown? it's obvious I haven't thought this deeply in a long time. for simple enough a reason: I haven't had a person with which to do so. at least, reflections suit me, so they cannot lure me to a house of horror but only a house of possibility.
- will be adding something about a mirage soon -
for the first time in a long time, I am posting on consecutive days. interesting, the forces that compel me here, but relatively unremarkable in the grand scheme of things. I'm still fully digesting the events of yesterday, just what it means, just how I relate, just how far to invite a (former?) stranger inside a place where I allow few to go. the first step is already in motion. a blog that I've kept since one my more fateful years that has only a handful of posts but no viewers besides myself is now potentially open. why? I imagine it is for the purposes of understanding, and the completion thereof. suffice it to say, barring any unforeseen dramatic exits, this singularity will know much of me almost willingly or otherwise. lol
no, this is not a mirage of love, or some vain concoction like it. if I could try explaining this phenomenon, it would have to be an amalgamation of minds - the first time I can ever say it has happened with someone else. I need not say that I have been searching for some intellectual equal, male or female, from amongst mankind as long as I can remember. one who can write and understand, along somewhat parallel wavelengths, where I seek growth and how life has progressed to the present moment. empathy among people with a real ability to think and decide, is truly rare. one of the only few questions I am left with, is how long would Allah choose to have me taste this sweetness before either it becomes as one with me, or disappears like the mirage of night it first appeared to be. no, it isn't that I question Allah. I've come too far, understood too much, to allow such foolishness fit for lesser minds to hamper my self actualization. some things in life are decreed, howsoever much we may wish them a certain way. while it may not make me happy to know such times, my acceptance of them and knowledge of their necessity as a trial in this life, makes it mostly gravy. still, I am wondering, at this time of early morning, whether I will find this equal again, whether our words will meet as raindrops in a spreading drought or as snow shards left in the upper reaches of atmosphere: will it melt and reform into one, or be blown by gusts of fate to directions unknown? it's obvious I haven't thought this deeply in a long time. for simple enough a reason: I haven't had a person with which to do so. at least, reflections suit me, so they cannot lure me to a house of horror but only a house of possibility.
- will be adding something about a mirage soon -
5.13.2008
- in the name of Allah -
So I am back here again. Why? I'm not entirely sure. It isn't the innate pull of self revelation, nor the desire to lift some hefty burden off of my chest. It isn't even as strong as the typical motivations I have to write something.
I write because I marvel at the hand of fate and its subtle movement. How some paths we plot and plan ourselves, yet they fade to nothing, and some paths of which we carry no inkling, without warning emerge to the surface of our souls from the very depths of our being. I hold no illusions of grandeur, no delusion of sanctity, no farce of fair fate; the only feeling I carry is this awareness that a thing, though it may be of limited purpose and present scope, could impart every single notion I've ever valued outside of deen and the basic premise of my existence, all in one fell swoop.
It could be that a reflection of mine, similar in nature but varying in substance, is finally shone from a corner of the world and a part of life that I hadn't quite expected from. How do I react? What will I do? Will I bury the shovels of my past along side the graves of fallen dreams? Will I create a facade to manage a crisis I don't see but in paranoia might expect anyway?
Simple. I live as if little has changed, but for a glimmer of something greater is given its due. There it is, there it might live, and still there it may die, but I will remember the day it shone bright, without needing to wonder if or why. My past has stayed buried, and as little as I care for it, it plans on staying that way. Facades never were quite my thing, so I'll leave them be and carry on while keeping faith grounded in believing.
from the nearest star..
..fell a dream, into my lap
barely moving, it needed CPR, stat
paddle 1 paddle 2, shock on three
count the lights, hands off, electricity
coursed through veins, depolarizing
a dream in infancy, barely surviving,
it just might make it, begin intubation
blindly, no need for light, I see it clearly.
a patient who fell out of his shuttle,
right before it landed on the moon,
escaped the smoldering rubble,
and not a second too soon,
flames and smoke rose and engulfed,
a lost vantage point blazing the rough,
no real matter, blueprints were in hand,
now to rebuild, across the oceans, across the lands.
So I am back here again. Why? I'm not entirely sure. It isn't the innate pull of self revelation, nor the desire to lift some hefty burden off of my chest. It isn't even as strong as the typical motivations I have to write something.
I write because I marvel at the hand of fate and its subtle movement. How some paths we plot and plan ourselves, yet they fade to nothing, and some paths of which we carry no inkling, without warning emerge to the surface of our souls from the very depths of our being. I hold no illusions of grandeur, no delusion of sanctity, no farce of fair fate; the only feeling I carry is this awareness that a thing, though it may be of limited purpose and present scope, could impart every single notion I've ever valued outside of deen and the basic premise of my existence, all in one fell swoop.
It could be that a reflection of mine, similar in nature but varying in substance, is finally shone from a corner of the world and a part of life that I hadn't quite expected from. How do I react? What will I do? Will I bury the shovels of my past along side the graves of fallen dreams? Will I create a facade to manage a crisis I don't see but in paranoia might expect anyway?
Simple. I live as if little has changed, but for a glimmer of something greater is given its due. There it is, there it might live, and still there it may die, but I will remember the day it shone bright, without needing to wonder if or why. My past has stayed buried, and as little as I care for it, it plans on staying that way. Facades never were quite my thing, so I'll leave them be and carry on while keeping faith grounded in believing.
from the nearest star..
..fell a dream, into my lap
barely moving, it needed CPR, stat
paddle 1 paddle 2, shock on three
count the lights, hands off, electricity
coursed through veins, depolarizing
a dream in infancy, barely surviving,
it just might make it, begin intubation
blindly, no need for light, I see it clearly.
a patient who fell out of his shuttle,
right before it landed on the moon,
escaped the smoldering rubble,
and not a second too soon,
flames and smoke rose and engulfed,
a lost vantage point blazing the rough,
no real matter, blueprints were in hand,
now to rebuild, across the oceans, across the lands.