When wind blows...

Dear Allah Above....

When the wind of my emotions blows...

hmm....and threatens to develop into a fierce storm...

Help me...please...to lean firmly upon your Word and toss my feelings aside.

As that pang of rage rises...teach me to be still...to submit and then to release.

Direct me to your Word...hmmm....especially in times such as THESE...so that I may obey you even during my trying season.

Remind me that I am not as helpless as I might think...that I am not as helpless as I might like to think.

Help me..please...to remember that it is always possible to obey you...even when my hormones rage....that there is no excuse for unleashed anger.

76:12
And because they were patient and constant, He will reward them with a Garden and (garments of) silk.

Remind me that feelings are fallible; hmm...(which I highly doubt)that...more often that not...our feelings lie to us...convincing of something that is not real – something that is not there.

But in all this....your Truth stands firm.

Above all else....teach me how to come to you and be satisfied...hmm....particularly when I feel as though my needs are not being met in man.

Remind me that man is not there to meet my needs....that ultimately that task belongs to You.

76:22
"Verily this is a Reward for you, and your Endeavour is accepted and recognized."


hmm...Dear Allah Above...
I am waiting upon you....hmm

For keeps !

"I don't know," he said quietly, 

"I think we made a mistake."

She nodded back.

Her features schooled into a numb expression of simple acceptance.

Either way she'd made her decision already.

She pushed her fingers into her hair and they caught in the tangle from where she'd slept on it.

"It's okay..hmm..." she said. "You don't have to say it. I knew this wasn't for keeps."

He reached out to touch her hand and slide along her side and sighed heavily.

Then he reached over to the nightstand for his wedding band and left the bed for the rest room.

She remained on bed remembering what irrevocable events happened…

When he came back...he was keenly looking at his ring band in his finger…and her heart skipped a beat…

He said…‘I still don’t understand...why your mother gave me this particular ring on our marriage, she told me it’s your fathers?’

She smiled…‘hmm...may be mother wanted to keep her mistake…transfer her mistake to us?’

He smiled...and slide back to her side.

Murataza Razvi

When I first saw him..hmm...he was one of the guest speakers in the Granta Magazine ceremony held in British Council. 


The Issue no. 112 of Granta magazine was on Pakistan and all the writers included in the issue were from Pakistan. 


All the speakers were seated and was ready to talk highly about the writers selected by Granta.


John Freeman(Editor) said that he searched so hard and it took him almost a year to unite and collect such writers who are very popular in Pakistan...hmm...


And there and then…Murtaza Razvi spoke up… 


He said something like…sorry…this is not actual literature you picked from Pakistan. Our literature is much more decent and Granta have not touched even one of the finest writers of Pakistan. 


And I said…’bravo…this man has courage to speak his heart out…hmm…he is brave’ 


How Granta picked those writers and who was the one who gave GRANTA the advise to choose those writers is another story. 


However...if you go through the magazine details you will see that those are not the cream of the writers Pakistan is blessed with. 


Murtaza Razvi was right…Granta failed to actually touch our literature. 


After the session I went to him…congratulate him on his out spoken speech and asked him for his card…on which at first he gave me someone else’s card…and asked me later to return…he had his own card in his hand by that time and I smiled on his simplicity. 


Recently...I am shocked to read about his murder in a personal blog of a fellow blogger. 


I am also very displeased on the silent acceptance of his murder by the media and the news papers. 


Isn’t sad that the person who was so out spoken for the truth has no one to speak for him? 


May Allah rest his soul in peace ! 
May Allah give his family courage to go through the pain. 
Ameen.

Rival of 'I Love You'

I know the most important three words in the world are...hmm.... “I love you”.

There are very few people will dispute this....including me.

When these words are uttered...it can mean the world to the two people involved.

However...this is not the real important point for me today to be made about these three word phrases.

The actual agenda is to point out the rival of these three important phrases of the world.

More importantly...hmm...or perhaps...more dangerously...are another three words that rival those three in the effect they cause...hmm...although causing the opposite reaction.

So I will suggest you all: Never ever utter these three words without knowing first that you will not be hearing back those three rival words instead of ‘I love you’…believe me those rival words have the tendency to ruin your romantic mood…even relationship…

And worst is that you will fall in a situation where you can’t take back your ‘I love you’…I mean how it would be like when you say ‘ I love you’ and hearing those rival words…you say…’Okay a mistake! I am taking back my ‘I love you’….no…you have said them and now you have to swallow the replied rival words too…hmmm…

So when today I saw my beloved husband being extra nice with me…he brought me flowers (I) never knowing that it was left overs of a business meeting..and he just don’t want them to be thrown off (something should never be disclosed by beloved husband…otherwise bring quite a disappointment to wife…perhaps) I said…soon after I saw him with flowers...those three important phrases…

Sadly...hmm...after me saying the best three words; “I Love You.”

He said..“I Don’t Know.”

Odd

Once in a while you find yourself in an odd situation.

You get into it by degrees and in the most natural way but...hmm...

When you are right in the midst of it...you are suddenly astonished and ask yourself how in the world it all came about.

If...for example....you saw a movie few days ago of a storm and forget all about it...

But one night you wake up in your dream and found the same storm...same incidents...same dialogues...with changed faces..in your dream you see yourself...your lost one...

Later you will wake up...perhaps a little less rested than ordinarily...and begin to think about it.

And you want to write about it...you want to write something very nasty about what had just passed and something very bad about your....hmmm.....Maker....

Isn't it strange...what you wrote...is something very different than what you were planing in your mind to write...

On one such morning I sat writing in a dew-drenched diary:

Show me where it hurts,

God said,

and every cell in my body burst into tears before His tender eyes.

He has repaid me though for all my suffering in a way I never wanted:

The sun is now in homage to my face,

because it knows I have seen God.

But that was not His payment.

The soul cannot describe His gift.

I just spoke about the sun like that because I like beautiful words,

and because it’s true:

Creation is in homage to use. (Rabia of Basra)

Dates (Khajoor)

Rainbow !

God uses ‘rain storms’ to wash away the high and low of the ground…even the tiny grass roots get clean…and when the morning came we see the flowers more cleaner…more colourful...more green.

The raining at first darkened the sky…you hardly see anything…but turn out good for the nature..hmm....

It keeps it healthy. Only you have to wait for the clouds to drop all the water so that the sky can get clear.

The sun shine again…the tiny water vapours hanging in between the air makes rainbow on the sky…all the golden dandelions lift up their little faces to the sun….all the birds sing joyfully….and so the world becomes beautiful.

At that moment…you can get your camera out and capture the beauty.

I was facing another type of rain last night…hmm...

The tears were falling fast and the low light of night bulb lit them up against the sadness and the night looked even darker.

There are moments in our life that a camera could not truly capture but heart always captured to never let go…and those moments keep haunting you…again and again….time to time….

And thus last night…God washed my heart too…hmm...

Now I am waiting on HIM that when HE will hang it out to dry…so that my heart can see the rainbow…a clear sky…the flowers of heart- the ones HE planted there can be brighter…and heart can sing joyfully.

Waiting…hmmm....