- in the name of Allah -

Among the many things in life one accepts, there are always two sides to a coin. In my younger days, as I have written of them many times since, I made many duas (supplications) to Allah in regards to one I wanted to marry. Of everything I have ever asked, of everything I had ever wanted, nothing was as striking and deeply felt as those prayers were. 

At first glance, from everything I have posted here and other places and written, it might seem that those duas were unanswered, that the heart as a vessel was emptied and nothing received in return. This is untrue, and I must clarify, inaccurate. Almost every single time I prayed for her back then, it was in conjunction with a prayer not just for 'us', but for her individually. That is, I would ask Allah that He guide her to that path which is best for her, both in dunya and akhirah, that she be lead on this path even if it was not with me. Maybe I had overlooked this aspect, maybe I had been convinced that earnest love was enough to alter the shape that destiny might make over a being's future. This was not the case, it was my error. Among all the things I do not understand, it is distinctly possible and plausible that Allah did indeed answer my duas, only not in the way I'd longed for. It may have been, and my state at the time attested to it, that we were not a good fit at the time for various reasons. To allow the one you love to walk away, knowing that she has a better immediate future elsewhere, and maybe a better eventual future as well, is just...painful. 

As I've said before, it never hit me all at once. It hit me slowly, like shards of glass, slowly, slowly breaking until I could no longer feel or recognize the parts of me that had faded. More recently, I have been able to feel the pain again, to know that I exist, because I can feel that pain. But the point here is not to dwell on the pain or absence. It is to assert that Komal found exactly the road Allah intended for her, exactly the road for her that I'd prayed for, that as painful as losing one this way is, it did not happen simply randomly or because I did not care enough or anything like that. The meaning I attempt to draw, is that even if this road was not for my sake, even if it would not quell the tempest of my own soul, it nonetheless did/would have/will iA quell the tempest of hers.

Ya Rabb, make this sufficient for me, make her path bright and clear, and allow me the gift of knowing her again in the next life, ameen. 


- in the name of Allah -

Of a recent realization that struck me while reading an article written by a highly intelligent and well-versed but extremely prejudiced writer, I found that having knowledge and even wisdom is not enough for a human being. 

I used to think those two facets were the primary precursors to finding and remaining on the straight path, but as it turns out, I was mistaken. There is something far more important than either, that being *hidayah* or "divine guidance". We human beings can have all the knowledge we think we need, all the wisdom in every book we ever wrote, but all of that by itself will always be insufficient. Any point of view, whether for good or ill, whether well-intentioned or masking an ulterior motive, can be thoroughly rationalized so long as one has sufficient knowledge of language and history to do so. 

That's some dangerous shit. It's like giving a child a lit firecracker and expecting he knows what will happen, having never handled one before. Of course he wouldn't, so he would suffer as a result. People are much like this child, we find a little bit of knowledge or subtle understanding, and suddenly we presume to become something formidable and experts in fields. Our vision is so short-sighted, so limited, we can scarcely see the effect/impact of something that goes beyond our own fingers or ears. 

For that reason, maybe primarily so, that we have to seek Allah/God and try to rely on Him. I've not relied explicitly on Him in quite some time, after some prior disillusion in life I had, but there is a need to come back to it at some point. There would be no point to all the wisdom or knowledge I could have, if it was not complemented, placed in context with hidayah. At times I know I have been guilty of being able to rationalize why I keep myself so apart, of violating some commandment of His, and this is a slippery slope best left early as one can. I've often found myself choking on what I learn of reality, of the true depth of our imprisonment in this life. The only pills I know of are the bitter ones, the ones accompanied by grief or pain. In the midst of all this apparent despair, it becomes quite easy to forget whom I have to rely on, whom I've always had: my Rabb. I've longed to be independent of needing any one or any thing too much, for fear of being left hanging without a place to turn to. Alas, I can't be independent of Allah, I've always known I needed Him, though I haven't always *wanted* to need Him. It's simply been a necessity. Of course, there are times when the light can shine through all the proliferated darkness, and I can finally *want* to need Him again. Those moments are the most blessed ones, where clarity finally comes into focus and the meaning behind what 'is' lies in the palm of my hands. Alhamdulillah.



- in the name of Allah -

Memory is often such a fickle thing. It doesn't always remain static, as a person evolves and changes and encompasses, so do memories tend to mean something different. Though not always.

Sometimes the only way to tell the size of a meteor is by looking at the depth of the crater that it left behind.

"isnt it crazy...that love is such a blessing, and we dont realize how great it is, until its taken away from us? i used to think that anyone could love, but that is not true. u cant force it, only Allah can put it there,and only Allah can take it away...but khair, its just one of the many trials in this dunya...