I Find Myself Scattered…

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I find myself scattered amid times age-old

In myths beyond expression, In tales untold

In sinful thought of a saint with heart unsure

In glare of kindness that emits from a whore

In pure love between a couple,weirdest of all

Man as tiny as a dwarf, Girl so fat and tall

In the winds that blow away veil of a wise girl

With face painfully ugly, eyes green like pearl

I find myself scattered amid times age-old

In myths beyond expression, In tales untold

In wildest fears of Syrian Refugees in a boat

In eyes of Peshawar child, knife at his throat

In the fire that burn Gaza’s screaming new-born

In bullets fired at her mother with ripped womb

In hopeful eyes of tiny girl fighting with Cancer

In ungratefulness of healthy finding no answer

I find myself scattered amid times age-old

In myths beyond expression, In tales untold

In the Kaaba of my soul, In Prayers unheard

In pleasant sounding sad chirps of a caged bird

In emptiness of Namaz, In pleasures of Love

In finding Him in heart, not in the sky above

I find myself scattered everywhere but in me

Help me gather up myself, Please let me BE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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On Seeking, knowing and Loving. On understanding Islam in it’s meaning as a whole.

love_paintings_fecundity
“Love is the water of life and a Lover is the soul of fire. The universe turns differently when fire loves water” Forty Rules Of Love.

 

I need to arrange this mess in my mind. I need to remind myself once again that I should keep walking no matter what.

There was a time when I read Quran with meanings for the first time. I fell in love with the writer. I started relating quranic teachings with events in my everyday life. I’d pray five times and would stay away from everything that Allah forbade me. I started playing according to the rules. Love was the reason.

Then, with time when I encountered life rendering events, when my vision became broader and I inquired about life more closely, I got confused. Literal meanings and rules of Islam and people following them literally filled my mind with contradiction and heart with turmoil.

When I was on the verge of getting out of the circle of Islam (with my own consent), I was pushed back in (again with my own consent) with the help of right knowledge I needed at that time. Love was the reason once again.

By categorizing Muslims into different types, I learnt to blame people for insane acts, not the religion that they follow. If I wouldn’t have categorized them, I certainly would have lost trust and faith in my religion and myself till now.

The Extremists:

They are the most dominant at present and known to be the only type of Muslims by other countries. They include Scholars and heads of Islam (as they call themselves). All the Molvi’s, Mowlaana’s, fatwa giving mufti’s and everyone who follows them blindly fall in this category.

These are the people who take out bits and pieces of ayah’s of Quran, speak out about the ones they like and miss out the one’s they don’t. And then use them as an excuse to do activities they actually want to do. Probably that’s why one half told truth is dangerous than a thousand lies.

Suicide bombing, killing innocent people, spreading war, training children’s minds for fighting against non-believers, suppressing and beating women, dreaming inappropriately for virgins in heaven, killing people in the name of Prophet Muhammad and calling every other ‘Muslim’ as a ‘non-believer’ who don’t abide by their rules. That is what they do and believe in.

The moderate:

These Muslims are the ones who were born Muslims and they take it for granted. Their lives are more influenced by the society rather than religion. They learn reading Quran with a good accent in Arabic at the age of 8, learn saying their prayer and many short ayah’s by heart at the age of 10 and complete the definition of ‘true Muslim’ by praying five times a day at mosque and reciting some pages of Quran daily at the age of 12. Every other Muslim who don’t follow this routine is only a ‘Muslim-by-name’ (for them). They pass their lives according to the rules of Quran they learn from their Islamic studies text books in school and college.

These Muslims are the ones who sneeze and say ‘Shaker-Alhamdullilah’ (Thanks to Allah) without knowing why are they thanking Him.

For them, alcohol is strictly prohibited in Islam but at the same time they talk behind people’s back without knowing that Allah dislikes speaking ill of a fellow behind his back much, much more than drinking alcohol.

They admit that their prayers are filled with worldly thoughts and sometimes not for a single second do Allah comes in their mind. But they still follow the routine with a hope. May be if they attend the class, they get to pass even if they don’t pay attention to the lecture. Hope is the reason to live on.

They don’t search. They are intended with what they got. They are like the stagnant pond which don’t want to be a part of ever flowing sea.

The Searchers:

These Muslims are the ones who struggle to search for the hidden. They start their journey in the boat of religious rules but then, they dive into the sea and become a part of it.

They understand Quran with it’s meanings and try to relate everything they read with their life. Then their heart is opened for love by Allah and their struggle goes on. Slowly they start understanding Quran with it’s hidden meanings other than the literal ones.

For them, religious rules are important only if they don’t cover their sight. If they don’t stop them from becoming one with the whole. They spread love, fight against their ego, feel pleasure in pain and ecstasy in serving humanity.

They find Allah within themselves, within their hearts. For Love they live and for love they die…

Since now, I had many fierce questions which I wanted to ask Allah, about the religion He sent and about His rules. At this second, I have all the answers. This journey between unknown and known is mysterious to me.

He made different people with different qualities and natures. This shows how Great He is. Being aware of the thoughts of every single person, He set out different rules to control them. For some He introduced the idea of an afterlife, a heaven and a Hell. He became a grocer who will weigh their good and bad acts. For some greedy ones, He produced every luxury in heaven. For some nasty ones, He produced beautiful virgins. For some, He simply sow a seed of Love in heart and give them control of whether to nourish it or to let it die. Like a mother who knows which kid wishes for which treat and which one fears of which imaginary ghost.

He just likes to be remembered in return. He likes to be searched. He likes to reveal himself to those who seek His Love.

All praise worthy He is.He don’t see the acts, He sees the intentions. He knows how unique has He made every single being and how will He judge one. Why worry about the afterlife, an imaginary world when we can experience heaven and hell in this very moment.

In the journey of seeking truth, I am still a traveler. My mind gets messed up and then cleared. My heart empties and gets filled again. I am still learning to Love and I want to struggle to know more.

Help me in my struggle. Be my mirror. Complete me. Teach me to Love again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cracked Pink Mirror

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Holding a small cracked pink mirror in her right hand she would stare at her bald head for hours. Her lifeless stone eyes would feel focused and concentrated as if they were trying to break the mirror into pieces with their melancholic gaze. Left corner of her bottom lip was swelled with bruises and clogged blood on it. A similar kind of wound could be seen at the center of her neck near the collar bone. Sometimes when she couldn’t stare at the mirror, her hands could be seen scratching her wounds with her sharp nails. It was impossible for her to rest her hands even for a few seconds. That’s what her Mother would say, three years ago, when she would keep herself busy in doing unnecessary chores along with the necessary ones. Three years later, her habits were more or less the same.

Close your eyes and think about the happy moments in your life if you want to end your depression, a voice would echo in her head. She would close her eyes but she could see nothing except the haunting black darkness. You come alone in this world and you have to return back alone. At some point in life, every relation fades away from your life. It is you who are left, hanging alone between the sky and the ground. Just start living for yourself, the voice would continue. She would look around gently and smile. He would smile back. She never was alone.

Thick tear drops would come out of her stone eyes and get absorbed in the pillow when she would yell and cry her throat out. Her feet could be seen rubbing against the hospital bed. Her fists clenched, struggling with immense pain. Eyes, closed so tightly as if they would crack themselves from inside, like her cracked pink mirror. She had to go through the same, everyday for three years. Her cracked pink mirror wasn’t broken yet. He always gives you the amount of pain that you can bear. She sure was made tough enough.

It spread in her blood through her veins, like the same way love spread once. Suffering was the same. The only difference was that love used to kill her everyday while this would kill her once and for all. Waiting for death is awful. Waiting is always awful. Death on the other hand is comforting. It gives life. It completes the cycle.

Love was necessary, so were the departures.

White is life, black is death. Living in the shades of grey is always painful.

She has Him. Who knows He would hold her hand gently and walk her to the black meadows or He would let her rejoin white.

Only in the darkness can you see the stars.

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‘Ishq’

Mevlana_Wajd Ecstasy Sufism

As drops of summer rain plows her barren land of heart

Desire of ‘Wisaal‘ sprouts; years of ‘Separation‘ cut apart

Renunciation of will, ecstatic pain of love’s desire grows

With the light ofIrfan, ruptured veins of her soul glows

Self is abandoned; dew of ‘love‘ turns her dust into mud

From the very bosom of self, arises the scent of beloved

This tightly coiled fire of love is neither requited nor denied

Conventional ‘wisdom‘ reverses, ‘Junoon‘ cries out with pride

Shackles of ‘reason‘ are broken, It’s wise lectures are declined

Wish to become dust of His feet echoes in her oblivious mind

Then crushed soul leaves the body, far away from time and space

It becomes One with beloved while ‘Nafs‘ drowns in His grace

Human unites with God, Divine unites with Man; a bridge is done

Rhythm in the cry of Hu‘ merges with the melody of ultimate One !

Secrets are unveiled, paradoxes solved, mystical assent completes

Levels of ‘Ishq‘ conquered, Mortality and immortality finally meets

Annihilation, Fan’a; Death is all left behind, nothing to be afraid

Contentment in non-existence, euphoria from the death of blade.

(Wisaal:Reunite, Irfan:theological philosophy which seeks to describe being, Junoon:Madness, Nafs:Ego,  Hu: Sound that imprint marks on heart, part of Allah’s name, Fan’a: Ultimate destruction)

 

This poem is dedicated to all the lovers of Allah, experiencing Ishq-e-haqiqui. Love is just a primary stage in the journey of Ishq. I have tried to explain all the levels of Ishq in my poem, through which one passes to reach the ultimate level, the level of death. May Allah blesses us with His Ishq.

Just Sorting It out.

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Why can’t I think like normal people ? Why can’t I behave normal ? Why can’t I pass my day and nights the way normal people do ? What is NORMAL?

People change with time. No, actually their perspectives change with time. The way we see the same simple normal things in our lives. The way we react to the same familiar situations and the way we think about the tiny little details of life. Perspective is all that matter.

I was tired asking myself all these questions some time ago. I was mad for being normal. I was jealous of normal people. And now when my life has turned into a usual normal life, it feels boring to me. Now I have come to know what I have lost. I gave up a life of awareness and enlightenment for a so called casual NORMAL life. Huh.

What normal life is actually ? A life passed in a conventional way. A life in which you don’t question what, why and how. You just do what others have been doing for thousands of years, you just follow the rules. You run behind life without any aim and at the end you end like a puppet in the fingers of nature. When you don’t feel the craving to look behind things for their logic, for the reason of their existence. When you lose the purpose for which you were born at the first place.

I have seen people living that way, very happily. I mean they have their lives all settled and families to share their achievements and problems. People who lay down to enjoy a good night sleep at 9, at night and wake up at 6 in the morning. People who don’t need to cry every other day and people who can share their things with anyone they find. People who are friends with many people and they don’t have time to figure out who is the best one of them.

I am that kind of people these days. I mean not completely, but more or less the same. My mind don’t feel connected to the weird and supernatural feelings and my heart feels hollow and dead inside my body. I wake up, pass my day doing nothing and then I stare at the dark and sleep in the morning. I don’t think…. I seriously don’t. Not about who am I, not about why am I like this and not about should I live or die. And I don’t cry, literally I don’t !! I feel like my body has been boiling with thick foggy clouds and it will burst out one day. And…. I am bored ! Fed up of this life where nothing at all seems to be making any sense. I don’t want to be a puppet. I don’t want to be NORMAL.

Allah was the solution of every problem I had for the past few years but He has stopped looking at me. I may be responsible for that but now when I need to get out of this cursed life, I find no help. My hand is being rejected by Him since long. And I am tired.

This post was the only way for me to sort out what I really want and what is actually going on in my mind. My mind don’t talk to me these days either but I can trick it into writing everything down, which I just did. Sorry for what you had to read. Just forget it.

And yeah HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY to all my Pakistani friends.

Moving on….

“And yes, you moved on… So easily ! It didn’t even take you a while.”

He cries with a voice brimming with pain.

She sighed. That’s what she do when words cut like knives. Words… That are not actually words, but boiling emotions seal packed in some random alphabets.

“You say I moved on…. Yes,maybe I did.”

4 whole years of painful depression were quite enough for me to understand that ‘this’ is not life. Life is something else…. Something better. Four years, i prayed for you….. He listened to and replied to each prayer i made but this one.

“aur insaan shar ko aisay mangta hai jesay khair ko… Aur insaan bara hi jaldbaaz waqay hua hai”

Your ishq led me to His ishq… And i did kufr for four whole years by holding on to mere ishq e majazi along with the ishq of supreme. You taught me the meaning of love…. But you never knew it yourself.

The minute i stopped praying to be with you….He announced his descision….His will….His orders.

And now after just 3 months of my marriage i have learnt…..He is after all the best planner.

The person He gave me loves me….and this love is the sacred one…bounded in the walls of marriage.

Tell me one reason to hold on to you still… It doesn’t matter now who i love…. What matters is that i have to live…happily..for the persons who love me….for myself.

And i am happy…. Expectations hurt and i don’t expect. Life gives me a new surprise daily and i am accepting His will. 

Your love lies inside my heart….like a bare thorn pricking and tingling the walls but it can’t come out…. My heart cries but there is someone now to wipe my tears off. You were not made for me…. Our love was forbidden.

And they say forbidden love teaches you the lessons and secrets which no knowledge can. 

May be that’s why people pass their whole lives searching for Him while He lives so close to them…but they can’t “get” Him… He likes to be searched.

You say i moved on…. 

Should i continue trying to move on or should i hold on and fight with what He wants? 

I’ll do whatever you decide.”

He stares at her with red stone eyes…. 

She spread her hands to pray for him…..

Love never dies but it can stay in the abandoned graves of heart….

She weeps and prays for him…till she return back to her “moved on” happy satisfied life…

Things have always been complicated for them….thet still are. Trying to solve these complications is the key.

She tried…. he’ll too one day.

“…….aur pher hoga wohi jo meri chahat hai”

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This post is not edited…. just wrote it on my phone and felt like posting it. I’ll reply to all your comments and start regular blogging in a while. Thanks to all of you who still read my useless posts.