I received this in an email this morning. Normally I pass these off as chain letters and silly forwards, but this isn't one of them...
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This story is of a little girl named Bar`ah who is 10 years old, her parents were doctors who moved to Saudi Arabia in search of better life.
At this age, Bar`ah memorized the whole Quran with tajweed, she was very intelligent, her teacher use to tell her she should be in middle school not primary school.
Her family was small and committed to Islam and its teachings....suddenly one day the mother started feeling sever abdominal pain, after tests and checkups she found out that she has cancer, but in its late stages.
The mother thought she should tell her daughter, specially if she wakes up one day and didn't find her mother beside her... so she told her: "Bar`ah I will go to paradise ahead of you, but I want you to read the Quran you memorized every day since it will protect you in this life..."
The little girl didn't really understand what her mother was trying to tell her... but she started feeling the change in her mother's status, especially when she was transferred to stay in hospital on a permanent bases. The little girl use to come to the hospital after her school and recite the Quran for her mother till the evening when her father used to take her home.
One day the hospital called the husband and informed him that the his wife's condition was very bad and he needed to come as fast as he can, so the father picked Bar`ah from her school and headed to the hospital, when they arrived he asked her to stay in the car... so that she wouldn't get shocked if her mother passed away.
The father got out of his car, with tears filled in his eyes and while crossing the road to enter the hospital, he was hit by a speeding car and died in front of his daughter who came crying to her father...!
The tragedy of Bar`ah is not over yet... the news of her father's death was hidden from the mother, but after 5 days the mother passed away leaving Bar`ah alone in this life. She become alone without her parents, and her parents' friends decided to find her relatives in Egypt so that they can take care of her.
Suddenly, Bar`ah started having severe pain like her mother, after a few tests and checkups it was confirmed it was cancer... at the surprise of every one she said: "Alhamdu Lillah, now I will meet my parents."
All of the family friends were shocked and surprised, this little girl being faced with calamity after calamity and she is patient and satisfied with what Allah ordained for her!
People started hearing about Bar`ah and her story, and a Saudi decided to take care of her... he sent her to the UK for treatment of this disease.
One of the Islamic channels (Al Hafiz - The protector) got in contact with this little girl and asked her to recite the Quran... and this is her beautiful voice with recitation...
They contacted her again before she went into a coma and she made dua for her parents and sang a nasheed...
The days passed by and the cancer spread all over her body, the doctors decided to amputate her legs, and she is patient and satisfied with Allah's ordains... after a few days the CANCER spread to her brain, upon which doctors decided for another urgent brain surgery... and now her body is in a UK hospital in full COMA...
So pray for her health and speedy recovery...
Another recitation...
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It was actually her recitation and choice of ayat that hit me the hardest. In the first video, she chose that same passage of Ibrahim (AS) when he is tested by Allah (SWT), and in the second, she recited the last ayat of Surah Furqan, where Allah describes the عباد الرحمن (the true servants of Allah).
Just one of the countless reminders that there are so many others, countless others, who are tested in ways that we - or at least I - could not even imagine, and they are more patient with their trials than I am with mine.
May Allah give her Shifa and 3afaa, and join her with her parents in the highest levels of Paradise; May Allah save us from extreme hardships that we cannot bear, and give us the strength and patience to bear what trials we do have to face with the patience of the Prophets and Sabireen. Ameen.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
Ishq vs. Aql
Assalaamu Alaikum,
اچھا ھے دل کے ساتہ رھے پاسبان عقل
لیکن کبھے کبھے اسے تنھا بھے چھوڑ دے
"It is good for there to be present with the Dil (the Heart), as a Guard, the Aql (Intellect)
However, sometimes, sometimes, just leave it (the Heart) alone as it may be..."
So I asked, "And when would these times be?" And she replied with another couplet of poetry. "Like when...":
بے خطر کود پڑا آتش نمرود مے عشق
عقل ھے محو تماشائے لب بام ابھے
"Fearless, jump into the fire of Namrood, did Divine Love,
While Aql still stands aside the spectacle, astounded."
First of all, the poetry blew my mind. I tried to stay true to the structure of the sentence, which is why it might sound awkward, but it is basically saying that "Ishq" or Divine Love jumped fearlessly into Namrood's pit of fire, while Intellect stood back on the edge, dumbfounded and amazed.
The first one is pretty straight forward minus the awkward structure, but it says that the heart needs the mind and intellect to govern it so it doesn't run wild and have a person become someone of whims and desires, but there are some occasions, when intellect cannot help any longer, and the heart needs to be left by itself to do what it must.
I don't know where the first one is from, but the second is an excerpt from some of Iqbal's work. It is in reference to the story of Ibrahim (AS), when he was cast into the fire. It was at this moment, that he had to desert his intellect, which for any man would scream with every fiber of its being that this fire will burn, and he had to free the reigns on his Heart, in which this Love for Allah and believe in Him resided, and it was through this love and belief, he was able to say even in the midst of his ascension into the pit of fire:
حسبي الله و نعم الوكيل
SubhanAllah. Back to the topic of poetry. In the brief explanation that my mother provided for me, I was able to pick up at least a little bit of appreciation for Urdu poetry. These are the same poems that I'll hear at a Desi wedding, and hear the uncles and aunties cry sighs of awe and amazement at lines that I do not understand, yet sound very short and simple to my ears.
After having these lines explained to me, I can't claim I am able to gauge how advanced or how eloquent the language was, or the style, due to my embarrassing limits of the language, yet I was still impressed, simply by gauging how well it flowed, and how it sounded to my ears, and how I hadn't heard of half the words before. I can only imagine how these lines impact a person who is well versed in the language. And I can understand their amazement at the meaning and depth. And I can envy it.
More so, I can imagine then, the wonder of the Arabs, who's lives were revolving around the strength of their language and their expertise in poetry, with the Ayat of Qur'an, which perplexed and amazed them, because it was like nothing ever seen or brought forth before, and it shook their hearts, challenged their minds, brought them to tears, to the extent that none were able to bring the likes of even one Ayah like it, and it changed an entire nation. I can imagine. And more so than the envy before, is the desire for this.
This is why we MUST thoroughly learn and immerse ourselves in Arabic. Not just to be able to understand the Qur'an, but to be able to actually experience it. May Allah make this path easy for us all, Ameen.
And so coming back finally to the story of Ibrahim in light of the Qur'an, it's only fitting to share the story as it is told best, by Allah (SWT) himself.
I spliced these into short clips. This first one is from Surah Anbiya:
From Surah Saaffaat:
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
Saturday, November 21, 2009
old tales
considering the temporary and volatile nature of harddisks and computers, i used to save my documents that i really wanted to save by emailing them to myself. there is no fool proof solution though, since data becomes corrupted, hard drives fail, computers crash, papers are lost, servers crash, and YAHOO DECIDES TO DELETE YOUR ENTIRE FREAKING EMAIL ACCOUNT FOR NOT LOGGING IN IN 3 MONTHS.
and just like that, a LOT of stuff that i really liked to go back to read (or not read but at least know it was there for old times sake) is gone, from AIM conversations dating back to the 1990s, to hilarious email exchanges, and particularly, a whole LOT of writing.
see, i'm secretly a huge nerd, and i was an even bigger one many years ago, especially during the years i was in hifdh. my life consisted of going to qur'an class, not doing any school work (i wasted my mom's homeschool program money), and WRITING. i used to be a member of a forum in which people would create different characters and write stories about them and interact with other characters. i was actually really good, and it helped my writing a lot, and even though it might be classified as lame, i had some good times writing some pretty cool stories. i saved these stories to my yahoo accounts: gangstaeskimo, and dragonsworn00 (lol), but now both of those are gone, and those forums do not have archives that old anymore, and i'm pretty sure i will never see a lot of it again.
today though, i decided to look through some old CDs i had lying around, and lo and behold, one of them had one of the last stories i wrote. i'm thinking about posting it up here, as well as saving it somehow so i don't lose it anytime soon, and i'm gonna go look for other CDs that might have other remnants of my past, one that was far superior to my current state in its literary richness.
and just like that, a LOT of stuff that i really liked to go back to read (or not read but at least know it was there for old times sake) is gone, from AIM conversations dating back to the 1990s, to hilarious email exchanges, and particularly, a whole LOT of writing.
see, i'm secretly a huge nerd, and i was an even bigger one many years ago, especially during the years i was in hifdh. my life consisted of going to qur'an class, not doing any school work (i wasted my mom's homeschool program money), and WRITING. i used to be a member of a forum in which people would create different characters and write stories about them and interact with other characters. i was actually really good, and it helped my writing a lot, and even though it might be classified as lame, i had some good times writing some pretty cool stories. i saved these stories to my yahoo accounts: gangstaeskimo, and dragonsworn00 (lol), but now both of those are gone, and those forums do not have archives that old anymore, and i'm pretty sure i will never see a lot of it again.
today though, i decided to look through some old CDs i had lying around, and lo and behold, one of them had one of the last stories i wrote. i'm thinking about posting it up here, as well as saving it somehow so i don't lose it anytime soon, and i'm gonna go look for other CDs that might have other remnants of my past, one that was far superior to my current state in its literary richness.
Pen vs Paper
Stuff from a couple semesters ago:
Pen
Sometimes I gotta get loose for the part,
Stretch out my limbs, blow a little on the tip,
Give a small tap, take a tiny sip, remove my cap,
And then I start to start, doodle (do-a) little bit of art,
Get my blood flowing like ink through my heart!
That was a little hint, but incase you haven’t figured it,
I’m your pal, pen, and this paper here’s my nemesis!
Been around since genesis, before sins and sicknesses
Weaknesses and wickedness, and you shall be my witnesses
Because it’s quite simple, that paper’s not my equal,
My audience be fickle, I influence the people!
So now you see the way I see, me, the clear superior,
At will I paint plain white sheet to black exterior,
At will I scratch and bleed, impose my will and soul true,
Paper sits helpless; push hard enough I cut through,
Lean and tall, strong and all, truly the best,
Now watch as I carve my name on Paper’s chest…
Paper
My ancestors are dried leaves; I am born from the ancient trees,
Lofty pillars great in height, severed to their knees,
With sap and splinter do they bleed, still gracious to their seed,
Bear fruit for Axe to eat and through this sacrifice succeed!
And in their wake I breathe, thus a truly blessed being.
And through this history I live, I feel, I see, I read
They claim we’re fragile; paper-thin, and thus that we are weak,
I’d say we’re gentle, flexible, durable during times of need,
Not the bursting rage of inferno flames, destroying its own seed,
But the water that can flow yet crash, that undoes fire’s deed,
The sweet caress of a blistering wind, when it donates its breeze,
The gentle lap of wave on shore from the deepest currents of the seas,
Water over Earth, and Wind upon Fire; a Strength not easily perceived
And so I am of this legacy, a proud member of this creed,
Yet humble in my way to life, sacrifice my services to need,
Greater still like our folks of old, making into Books that people read,
Or even when the pen strikes through, tearing wastefully with greed…
This is how we lead.
Pen
Sometimes I gotta get loose for the part,
Stretch out my limbs, blow a little on the tip,
Give a small tap, take a tiny sip, remove my cap,
And then I start to start, doodle (do-a) little bit of art,
Get my blood flowing like ink through my heart!
That was a little hint, but incase you haven’t figured it,
I’m your pal, pen, and this paper here’s my nemesis!
Been around since genesis, before sins and sicknesses
Weaknesses and wickedness, and you shall be my witnesses
Because it’s quite simple, that paper’s not my equal,
My audience be fickle, I influence the people!
So now you see the way I see, me, the clear superior,
At will I paint plain white sheet to black exterior,
At will I scratch and bleed, impose my will and soul true,
Paper sits helpless; push hard enough I cut through,
Lean and tall, strong and all, truly the best,
Now watch as I carve my name on Paper’s chest…
Paper
My ancestors are dried leaves; I am born from the ancient trees,
Lofty pillars great in height, severed to their knees,
With sap and splinter do they bleed, still gracious to their seed,
Bear fruit for Axe to eat and through this sacrifice succeed!
And in their wake I breathe, thus a truly blessed being.
And through this history I live, I feel, I see, I read
They claim we’re fragile; paper-thin, and thus that we are weak,
I’d say we’re gentle, flexible, durable during times of need,
Not the bursting rage of inferno flames, destroying its own seed,
But the water that can flow yet crash, that undoes fire’s deed,
The sweet caress of a blistering wind, when it donates its breeze,
The gentle lap of wave on shore from the deepest currents of the seas,
Water over Earth, and Wind upon Fire; a Strength not easily perceived
And so I am of this legacy, a proud member of this creed,
Yet humble in my way to life, sacrifice my services to need,
Greater still like our folks of old, making into Books that people read,
Or even when the pen strikes through, tearing wastefully with greed…
This is how we lead.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Ibn al-Mubarak said:
‘How many people carry the Qur’an in the hearts but the Qur’an curses them from inside their hearts! If the bearer of Qur’an disobeys his Lord, the Qur’an calls him from inside his chest saying, ‘By Allah, you have not carried me (i.e. memorised me) for this! Will you not be shy from your Lord?’
Monday, October 19, 2009
new link
i find myself loving this dude's blog on marriage in islam and in the west, and his personal sometimes-too-honest journey while looking for the 'one'.
http://islamicsouls.blogspot.com/
http://islamicsouls.blogspot.com/
Thursday, September 17, 2009
post-nights
I've realized the past couple nights, while I drive back home in stupid 495 traffic from the furthest possible places I decide to go, that although Ramadan should be the month of Quran, and is for many, in my case, due to Taraweeh, I might actually end up reading LESS Quran in Ramadan. Preparing for the night leaves little leeway to read other than that portion that will be recited...
Long term solution: and I might as well call this a goal: not have to review for Ramadan.
Current solution: there's still a couple days left.
About the last 10. The first couple nights, I don't remember which one in specific, but the moon looked like it was crying while I drove home. 25th night was amazing though. Last night, not like the 25th. 2 more.
Long term solution: and I might as well call this a goal: not have to review for Ramadan.
Current solution: there's still a couple days left.
About the last 10. The first couple nights, I don't remember which one in specific, but the moon looked like it was crying while I drove home. 25th night was amazing though. Last night, not like the 25th. 2 more.
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