As a shariah student we have to take 3 Quran courses which through it we memorize around 6 juz’s once you graduate.
Quran. My biggest challenge honestly. Even though i grew up for a couple years in Saudi, i regret to this day that i would run away with my friends and find any excuse from attending our weekend quran lessons. Ya Allah 😦
Anyways, even though my parents speak arabic, and i have the biggest insecurity of reading quran out loud, and now i must get over that fear because twice a week, i sit for an hour and a half in a class where we must recite quran.
The first lesson was basically a disaster for me, i almost burst in tears (yes that is how much i dislike reading out loud) especially when the class is filled with Malay’s and Asians mashaAllah whom recite beautifully! i just wanted to disappear! but i got over it.. and i’m trying inshaAllah.
So this semester i’m going to get over my insecurity of reading out loud and get used to not perfectly reading quran because not all of us do and well thats why you get double the ajr.. and thats what keeps me going.
On the bright side! i memorized 5 pages this week alhamdulilah, and i’m really getting in the mood 🙂 🙂
May Allah make the Quran our light and guide in this life and the hereafter!
And Allah wants to lighten for you [your difficulties]; and mankind was created weak. – Qur’an, Surah An Nisa’ (4:28)
As Isha athan went off, i was studying out of my big psych textbook.. i put it all down, took off my glasses and put my face between my palms.. and stopped. For a min out of hours of studying i just needed a break.
I breathed. i stopped. I looked out the window, and for the first time in a while, i saw my life pass in front of me. I just thought for a minute to myself… what is success?
We sometimes get so caught up with life, in my case, so caught up in studying, that i just forget what i’m really here for. I mean success has a different definition for everyone, and i feel like it can change as we get older, experience more, and learn more about ourselves…
The word ‘success’ in arab is falaah (فلاح ) – falaah comes from the root falh, meaning ‘farmer’… a farmer is the greatest example for success because a farmer is a perfect example of someone whom works, from 6am in the morning till sunset – making sure all his crops are well harvested, and all that fun stuff 🙂 a farmer puts all his heart into what he works with, he works, and breaks a sweat, but in return, he ‘literally’ sees the fruit of his work.
And that is what we need to aim to do. We are all farmers in this life, working, harvesting the seeds that on the Day of Judgment will be ripe fruits to witness for us… We need to work hard, we need to be tested, because just like farmers, the weather isn’t always going to help, there might be a drought, or crows might enter their fields, but that doesn’t cause them to sit in a corner and cry. They work, they put it all in, and leave the rest to Allah.
So, work hard, think for the future, do something with your life… and break a sweat for once.
“I have learned that success is to be measured not so much by the position that one has reached in life as by the obstacles which he has overcome while trying to succeed.”
Rant for the day- back to midterm studying… 😦
Since the day I became aware of this life, and became aware of my surroundings, my vivid memories were always seeing my parents flipping through the channels to watch the news in Palestine. This sacred place I am from, so far away, yet so close to the hearts.
Palestine, Palestine, Palestine. Everywhere. Since I was a kid, I would always be proud during multicultural events at school, dress up as a ‘Palestinian’. All my school projects would be about my homeland, the most beautiful place on earth, the dearest thing to my heart. Yet… I never stepped on its soil, breathed its air, saw its sky. But I knew I loved it.
But one thing I never got is why were they always praying for Palestine, what it really meant for it being under attack.. I never ever understood why I would cry so much, why it tore up my grandparent’s hearts whenever they’d see the news. I never really got it, I knew I had to be torn up, I knew I had to make duaa’, but it just never made sense.
After 19 years…. The puzzle pieces of my life were finally put together. I finally got it. I finally stepped into Palestine. I finally prayed in masjid al-Aqsa. I finally was home. And I finally cried, cried and cried, and every tear that came down came literally from the heart.
My first hours in the Israeli airport were one the most heartbreaking experiences for me. I never felt so humiliated, so out of place, even though for the first time I was in my country. It was disgusting. They treated us like animals, just for the reason that I wanted to come home? Why? Why did I have to see an old lady cry and barely able to walk being yelled at, and have her luggage thrown at her, why? Just simply because she’s coming back home to visit her land.. it didn’t make sense. But at the same time I never felt so attached to Palestine.
When I first stepped on the soil of Hebron, breathed its fresh air, I didn’t know how to thank Allah. It was the most surreal seconds of my life.
And then, I prayed in alaqsa. Wallahi wallahi, I don’t ever recall feeling the way I did the moment I saw the Dome of the Rock. My heart skipped a beat- I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t know if I were to smile, to cry, to just run up to it and touch its pillars, to hug the people that gracefully walked on its land.
I reached just in time for Dhur prayer. And I stood there, between lines and lines of people, normal people, whom were heros to me, praying, just the way I saw them pray on TV, but it didn’t really hit me yet… till the moment I prostrated, and my forehead felt the cold ground of alqsa, the tears filled the floor, I forgot everything, and began kissing the most beautiful land on the face of this planet.
SubhanAllah, this was what the ‘perfect moment’ meant. And just there and then, I felt like if I were to die, I would die at ease. Because now I lived life, now I know what my purpose was, I went back home, I didn’t want to ever leave. Palestine, its like heaven on earth.
It was the most bittersweet trip… AlAqsa was crying, AlAqsa is in pain, and I felt it sharply stab me through the heart. Alaqsa, Gaza, Palestine, is crying… crying out. Its heartbroken, its broken, its sad and it needs us.
What I would do to just go back, just to pray another prayer in Palestine. Just to kiss its soil and admire its beautiful sky.
Now as I watch what is going on in Gaza, my heart literally is torn apart, my eyes cannot stand it, because I was on that land, and I saw its pure beautiful people. I saw the simple life; people lived every day to its fullest, because they never knew what to expect the day to come. I couldn’t get over the fact walking in my own streets of the city I came from and being searched… knowing that at certain times you can’t leave your home because you never know when something may go on.
This is why I cry today for Gaza, because I finally understand what Palestine is under siege means. I finally can understand the torn look in my grandfather’s eyes when he talks about home. I finally get why I sometimes see my grandmother dozing off into another world just thinking of home. This is what makes sense now, when I see how perfectly my grandmother paints the paintings of Palestine, and why they mean so much.
Ya rabb, ya jabbar, ya wadud, bring justice to Palestine, ya Allah mend the hearts of those who have lost their loved ones, ya Allah allow us all to spend the next Eid praying on this blessed land, in Your blessed mosque.
i took this picture alhamdulilah 🙂
It has been related by Juwayriyya that early one morning the Messenger (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) left her room while she was doing the dawn prayer. He returned later that morning and she was still sitting in the same place. “have you been sitting in the same place since I left you?” he asked. “Yes,” she replied. Whereupon the Prophet said, “I recited four phrases three times after I left you, and if these were to be weighed against what you have been reciting since dawn, they would still outweigh them. They are: ‘Glory be to Allah and Praise be to Him as much as the number of his creations, and His pleasure, and the weight of His Throne, and the ink of His words.’”
سبحان الله وبحمده عدد خلقه ورضى نفسه وزنه عرشه ومداد كلماته
SubhanAllah, sometimes we don’t really think about the quality of our athkar, but we think of the quantity. My hadith professor today was talking about how sometimes we got to be smart with our athkar. When we hear a hadith like this, where Juwariya sat from dawn to the break day making tasbeeh, which is obviously a great virtue, but at the same time the prophet told here these 4 phrases which couldn’t add up to what she had said.. why so?
a) Praising Allah by the number of His creations … UNCOUNTABLE
b) Praising Allah by the ink of His words
Say: ‘If the sea were the ink for the words of My Lord, truly the sea would be used up before the words of my Lord were completed, and even if We used the same again to assist. (Qur’an 18:109)
So be wise whilst you praise Allah subhanahu wa ta’laa. Look for what weighs the most, and make them part of your life.