Teen: to fit in

Allow me to share my theory of teen years in simple language…

  • 0-12 years: Exploring with pure innocence. Egocentric. Living for the day. Smooth.
  • Early teen years: Choosing peer group, the game of “fitting in” begins, it all seems possible.
  • Mid teen years: Trying to fit in. Acting phase, having two personalities; one in school to satisfy peer pressure, other at home to satisfy parental pressure. Believing life can easily be double faced.
  • Mid to late teen years: Realising it’s not easy to fit in. Playing it safe, a little here a little there. Internal conflict manifested in disinterest, boredom, depression and/or rebellious behaviour. Rough times!
  • Late teen years: Realising “fitting in” will not thrive. Finding faults in peer group. Attempting to build own identity.  Tough times, but quite a ride.  

Later on: Enjoying newly developed identity. Responsible. Standing up for values, life becomes much easier! Well, with annoying minor incidents of each of the above!

 

Agree/Disagree?

(Captured @ the Great Wall of China)

Going for Hajj

I long to glitter my eyes with your sight, I long to stand on your pure soil. I long for the shiver, I long for the tears. Mecca, to you INSHALLAH I am on my way!

Dear readers,

I will Inshallah soon be travelling to Makkah to complete an important part of my religion. I would like to humbly ask you all for forgiveness if I have wronged you in any way and also ask for your kind prayers that my Hajj will be accepted by our Gracious God. I would also like to tell you that I hold no anger nor contempt in my heart for any of you and will be praying for your health and happiness in this life and thereafter.

P.S: I know I have promised a Hajj dedicated post, I know you were expecting something more exclusive, I promise I’ll do it when I’m back. I have been extremely busy preparing for this amazing journey of a lifetime!

Salute to the Fathers!

Salute to the fathers, Salute to the Omani fathers from very deep within my heart!

During my course in London, a Danish speech therapist came over to me surprised, asking if I see fathers of young clients in my clinic where I come from. Hearing me proudly say “YES, in fact more fathers than mothers attend therapy sessions with their child” left her gobsmacked! I honestly do not know the source of her surprise or what exactly she meant by that. I can only assume and I will assume; maybe, because Arab men are usually perceived as Macho macho, hence the thought that they would show limited care towards their children? Maybe, she thought about the segregation of genders in my country, hence the surprise that I do actually meet men in my clinic? Other than these two reasons, I found the surprise rather shallow because what I see within the walls of my clinic is by far the most compassionate of relationships. A relationship that is devoid of lies, hypocrisy or personal interests. The all heart relationship between “father and child”!

I do not deny the role of the mother here, I only do not flaunt about it now because it’s the “default” setting if you like, a mother concerned about her child that is. You rarely see otherwise in almost all cultures. However, when the father takes the driving seat, when he runs for his child’s interest for whatever it costs, when the mother is at home and have never even met the therapy behind her child’s improvement, and the father brings the child in for a long-term fortnightly therapy session that could last for years (it happens). That’s the tender heart of a father I’m talking about.  

I’ll leave you with this true story that left me touched, disturbed and impressed in the same split of a second, while taking the case history of a child in clinic.

The Doctor calls me referring a patient with a complicated history of multiple abnormalities. A few minutes later, a gentleman, a lady and the little child are in my clinic. The lady sits on a chair, the child on another chair, sadly I do not have a special chair for children with hypotonia (very weak muscles), their sitting positions are difficult to maintain, someone needs to hold the child or else he’ll lean sideways and could fall down quite instantly. The father kneels on the ground holding his son with his arms, helping him maintain his posture while the child moves, jerks and twitches uncontrollably. 

I started taking the case history, asking the lady pre and post birth questions. I took it for granted (like I assume you all did) that she was the mother. She was apparently the paternal grandmother (She looked really young, it must be the pure heart she has that gave her the glow). After a few questions, I saw a few hesitations with back and forth looks from the lady and her son (the father), as if contemplating whether to trust me and expose the hidden bit or not, and they started… The child had been neglected the care of his mother since birth, or actually the mother has lost this precious son to suit her ego and her heartless family. The story is, after the child had been born, the mother astonished by the amount of physical abnormalities her son has, decided to run away from the hospital, abandoning her son under her family pressure that she will not enter their house with a disabled! The father and his mother were left or rather privileged with the responsibility of taking care of this young boy.

Not only do they care for this child, they show tender love and absolute affection beyond imagination. The grandmother showed repeatedly how blessed she is to have him. The child’s mother on the other hand filed a divorce, got her wish granted, re-married and has a family of her own now. She has never seen her first child after the abandonment in hospital.

I was left repeating “Subhan Allah” all day long!

I: on London

Somewhere over the rainbow!
Somewhere over the rainbow!
Where we stayed. Just outside our building
Where we stayed. Just outside our building
Home away from home
Home away from home

 

It was Ramadhan, we broke our fast with strawberries :)
It was Ramadhan, we broke our fast with strawberries 🙂

 

Exploratory walks around London:

Random alley, close to our area in Borough
Random alley, close to our area in Borough

 

Supposedly, the biggest in the world and the finest in London. (We should start marketing Souq Mawaleh in Oman, dont you think?)
Supposedly, the biggest market in the world and the finest in Uk. (We should start marketing Souq Mawaleh in Oman, don’t you think?)

 

Policewomen on duty!
I asked if I can go on their horses, pretending to be a naive tourist, no.. just kidding 😉

 

London...
London…

 

Some Muslim lost his hat in London! I really hope there was nothing under it :O
Some Muslim lost his hat in London! I really hope there was nothing under it :O

 

 

A small garden within a church, Maybe??
A small garden within a church, Maybe??

 

Colourful London
Peeking at the crowd from over a bridge. Colourful London..

 

Just walking and snapping..
Just walking and snapping..

 

River Thames
Walking by River Thames
Sitting by the river, enjoying the breeze
Sitting by the river, enjoying the breeze
Sipping my last cuppa coffee in London, from somewhere over the rainbows again!
Sipping my last cuppa’ coffee in London, from somewhere over the rainbow again!

Posting from England

GoodBye

Goodbye

 

Goodbye…. wait, I’m still blogging, I just won’t be posting much for the next couple of weeks! I’m in the UK for a course, guessed it? Yup a stuttering course, thinking about it makes me freak out, because I’ve travelled an 8-hour flight for stuttering and it’s becoming the last thing I think about late at night. I seriously need help, I think I’ve gone beyond the “crush” or “infatuation” stage, I’m in a serious relationship with stuttering!!! I know I know I’m married, I feel bad but rest assured I’m now working on a strategy to open-up to my husband, I should really tell him about this new love, don’t you think?

صوما مقبولا… و افطارا شهيا

صوما مقبولا... و افطارا شهيا

صوما مقبولا... و افطارا شهيا

May you have your fasting accepted..

May you have a scrumptious break-fast (Iftar)!

Only there…

Only there, a mother kisses her lost son.

Only there, a son grows to meet his fathers’ expectations.

Only there, a childless couple meet 3, 4, maybe even 8 of their kids, touch them, feel them, speak to them.

Only there, a long lost friend is with you over a cup of coffee, discussing today matters as casually as it may get.

Only there, a student yet to take an exam, passes with flying colours, maybe even excel beyond expectations.

Only there, a severe agony is kissed goodbye.

Only there, a trauma is healed leaving no scars behind.

Only there, a forfeited love is brought back to life.

Only there, a twinkling star is within reach.

Only there, there in a dream, fantasy is real.

Only there, during sleep, we’re transferred to a scene beyond our imagination and left to….dream! Maybe for a minute, maybe for an hour, we don’t even know, we don’t even care. We live it, we indulge in that precise moment and that is what counts.

We dream during sleep and we question “why this dream, why that dream”. Do we stop and thank GOD for giving us tangible fantasies.

 

Good night, sweet dreams...

Good night, sweet dreams...

 

If you laugh after a dream, thank Allah for that moment of absolute bliss.

If you cry after a dream, thank Allah it was just a dream.

 

 

 

Quran through converts!

It’s Ramadhan. “The month whose beginning is a mercy, whose middle is forgiveness, and whose end is freedom from the fire” Prophet Mohammed (PBUH) said. Since going online is part of my survival package, I’ve decided to dedicate some of my time online to my spiritual/religious enlightening through websites of concerned fields.

What I find most intriguing to read are stories of converts or reverts (to their original nature) as they like to be called, amid the search I stumbled upon this great website “Welcome Back“. I’ve read 2 stories so far, they send chills down my spine, good chills that is, ones that freeze my heart for a moment while I submerse in the beauty of my religion. Having been born as a Muslim and bred as a practicing Muslim, I was not ever in the journey of discovery to find or smoke out the light of Islam. Light was already within and surrounding me, it was a matter of staring at the light and appreciating it. I can relate to how reverts feel, but I cannot feel it myself! How I envy you reverts, in a good way I promise 🙂

One aspect of this glorious journey of discovering Islam I noticed from reverts, is when they first read the Quran. I’ll leave you with a few words from Dr. Jeffrey Lang (a revert after being an athiest for 10 years):

“You cannot simply read the Qur’an, not if you take it seriously. You either have surrendered to it already or you fight it. It attacks tenaciously, directly, personally; it debates, criticizes, shames, and challenges.”

“I was at a severe disadvantage, for it became clear that the Author knew me better than I knew myself.”

“The Qur’an was always way ahead of my thinking; it was erasing barriers I had built years ago and was addressing my queries.”

“I was being led, working my way into a corner that contained only one choice.”

 Powerful words, read about his journey to Islam here  

Dear readers, do you (like me) envy reverts for their journey of discovery? Do you feel (like I do) miss on crucial aspects of feeling Islam through reading Quran for the first time and realising that this is it, this is the truth?

Real or Fake?

home..

where all the thinking takes place

where all the thinking takes place

My aunt was around my area at the time of prayers last week, so she called saying that she’s a 3-minutes drive to my house and is passing by to pray. In circumstances as such I thank God first and foremost, and then Linda (my housemaid) for having a home welcome to sudden guests 24/7! Otherwise, I would’ve had a panic attack, and some minor temper tantrums running from one corner to the other, making sure every piece of mess is well hidden (by that I mean; violently pushed under the bed, or forcefully shoved inside the nearest closet). With the presence of a maid, all you need to do is entertain your guest, offer some fresh fruit juice or even beg her to stay for dinner!

Linda is a blessing -most of the time, I must add- (details about Linda coming in another post Inshallah).

So yah the aunt comes in, she goes into the bathroom, one minute later, the door is wide open and I hear “Darling, you a need a new soap dispenser, this is useless, it doesn’t work” I go straight in and with a quick twist it works just fine and I say “you’ve just got to lift up a lil bit, then it’ll work”. She goes back in, I hear another shout from behind the door “Darling, the flush isn’t working”, I go “Oh for that aunty, all you need is to keep pressing and enjoy watching the junk flush away”. One last roar from the bathroom and I hear “Darling, the shower head fell down, it wasn’t fitted properly, you need to call your contractor, those people never do their job right” I go “Oh no aunty, this… Just keep it vertically straight and it’ll stay up and still”

For a moment I thought we’ve paid so much for the renovation of this house in the name of quality contemporary design and now we’ve got to deal with these unexpected itsy bitsy faults, damn! Then it occurred to me; isn’t this what we call home? When you’ve figured your way round things to work perfectly, just a twist or a pull or sometimes a pat on the item and it works just fine? Aren’t all homes like this? These quick fix-it moves become a natural habit and life goes on pretty smoothly day in, day out.

I love home…

Eight months ago, this place was barely fit for human habitation, now I’m lovin it to bits..

 

Dining area

Dining area

our relaxing space

our relaxing space

My special area

My special area

« Older entries