My Doors to Jannah

Sometimes,
I long for your touch,
Your warm soft hands,
That would melt into mine,
Like feet when upon sand.

When I am sick,
I remember you,
And all those nights you
Stayed awake,
For my sake,
To sing me a lullaby,
So it would distract me from the pain.

And when I remember, I wish I did more.

Sometimes,
I long for your presence,
Because, we could sit for a long time,
In silence,
Watching a football game,
Or marvelling at the sunrise on our way to school,
Yet still feel connected.

And when I remember, I wish I did more.

They say distance makes the hearts fonder,
That is definitely true.
But it also teaches you,
The significance of your presence,
Your warmth,
Your hug,
Your mercy,
Your care.

Because, though I will meet many people,
Who will love for me,
None can match the love you gave,
The effort it took to raise me,
To hold my hand and take me out to the
Big, bad world,
Equipping me
With the right tools and resources.

It was under your care I was shaded,
Till I eventually was set on my own journey,
To fulfil a greater potential and purpose,
Though it required us to separate.

There is nothing like a fathers protective wings,
And a mothers friiendship.

And so,
I just want to say,
Mum and dad,
However many miles you are from me today,
I will always do my best to serve you,
Through Du’aa,
Through a simple text,
Asking, “How are you today?”

Through serving my new family in the best way,
Because that is what you taught me to do.

My doors to Jannah,
My king and queen,

Wherever destiny takes us,

I will always love you.

The Buddy Bench

I remember painting the buddy bench,

With my own two hands,

The teacher said it should be bright,

Like the colours of the rainbow.

The buddy bench was a unique bench,

Designed for victims,

Like me,

Who were bullied for their height, sensitivity

And sometimes, even ethnicity.

The buddy bench was for those,

Who had no one by their side,

Whose pain and hurt didn’t hide,

Nor did it subside.

The buddy bench was supposed to help assist,

Those bullied or hurt or abused,

It was supposed to be a place where you’d find,

People who wanted to comfort and console.

The buddy bench was where I’d retreat,

When the hurt from my ‘friends’,

Landed me in defeat.

It was the place I’d sit, 

Looking for a friend or an understanding soul,

Yet, they all laughed,

“Look at her, she’s all alone!

The buddy bench overtime, became rusted and old,

I stopped going,

Decided that suffering in silence,

Would make them think I was 

Brave and bold.

At least, even if I was a victim, no one would know,

The laughter would stop,

No longer would my helplessness show.

Because, the bullies never truly understood,

The pain they caused,

And so their hateful words,

Their name-calling, their threats,

Never paused.

But as I grew, as I blossomed,

As I became more aware,

I realised that God would not place me,

In a situation I couldn’t bear.

I become stronger, more faithful,

More confident in my skin,

I was determined not to let them win.

So I went to speak to someone in authority,

Who after discipling the bullies,

Arranged us tea parties -

If a month went by and no one had bullied.

We would all be invited,

To celebrate a victory.

Over time, I learnt,

To speak out, and not suffer in silence,

I learnt to forgive, to give them another chance,

I learnt that taking the first step, lies in our own hands,

I learnt that the buddy bench taught me that I was strong,

When so many were afraid to admit they had been wronged.

I learnt that so many bullies had been bullied themselves,

I learnt that scars fade but don’t truly mend.

But most importantly,

I learnt that God has a plan,

I learnt to find solace in Him, when all had turned their back

I learnt that ease would follow hardship,

I learnt that anyone could be a target,

Even if they look big and strong,

I learnt that never should bullying be tolerated,

Whatever the form,

And that the sunshine will always appear,

After the storm.

What If Tears Never Dried?

Isn't it a mercy,
That tears dry?
For if they never did,
We would be afraid to cry,

Puddles would turn
Into rivers,
And oceans too,
So isn't it a mercy,
That tears dry?

Our faces would be stained,
With marks,
Representing each time,
We hurt,
Or were in pain.
So isn't a mercy,
That tears dry?

Yet, even our tears fade,
And disappear,
Reminding us that no difficulty,
Is forever here.

Ease will come,
Hardships will go,
Smiles will reappear,
So will the rainbow,

Our hearts will heal,
Happiness you will again feel,

Darkness will be followed by light,
Even when your situation looks tight,

For tears
Always
Dry.

I Wish, I Dream...

I wish someone had told me,
That not every dreams come true,
Because He has a better plan,
For me,
And for you.

I wish someone had told me,
Success is not about the end goal,
But about the journey, on which,
You will fall and you will falter,
You will break and you will shatter,
But only for the betterment of your own soul.

I wish someone had told me,
To trust more than to expect,
To Du'aa more than to dream,
To have faith in the unseen,
And to remember the world is truly imperfect.

I'm grateful someone had told me,
To never give up,
On my hearts calling,
And to pick myself up,
After every falling.

Because,
Some dreams do come true,
In a way, better than you can ever imagine,
More beautiful than you ever pictured,
A journey you never thought
You'd be blessed to pursue.

I'm grateful someone had told me,
That faith makes all the difference,
For possible and impossible,
Are merely concepts of the human mind.
And Allah to His Slaves,
Is truly, most kind.

To every new dreamer,
Sincerity is the oxygen,
that breathes life to your dream,
Determination is the key
to your success,
Tawakkul, without it,
expect disappointment,
Du'aa is the fuel
that will drive your dreams forward,
And patience is your saviour,
Through the ups and the downs.

To every new dreamer,
Continue planting the seeds,
Whatever the weather.

For every seed is planted in murky soil,
Some wilt, others bloom,
Have faith,
That yours will blossom.
If you can't see it now,
You will,
Very soon.

To every dreamer new or old,
Hold onto hope,
Even when the storm appears,
And you've cried too many tears,
Great things don't come easy,
They take a while,
But His delays are never His denials.

Go the extra mile,
Always wear that smile!
Don't ever forget,
This is your dream,
Devote yourself to it,
Find yourself a team,

And go make it happen.

The Invisible Wounds

One day I stopped

To ask myself a question

A question, for which

I desperately needed an answer

I asked

How does one bandage an emotional wound?

The sort of wound that can’t be seen

By the human eye

A wound that feels

As though

Someone pierced an arrow through

The heart

A pain that

No one else can see

There’s no cut

No scar

No even a graze in sight

No blood

No evidence that it exists

But its there

And so I asked myself

How does one bandage an emotional wound?

It’s a pain

That affects the most sensitive part

Of the human creation

The most delicate organ

Which if is sound

The whole body is sound

Imagine dropping a glass

And watching it shatter into

Tiny, small pieces

That glass

Is our broken heart

So how does one bandage an emotional wound?

It is through

Regaining

our self-worth

Reclaiming

our identity

Dressing

our wounds

with sincere Duaas

Finding peace

In His remembrance

Swimming to the surface

When we’re about to

drown

And holding on

Amidst the rocky waves

Emotional wounds are sometimes

Our deepest wounds

But the greater the gash

The greater the fill

With the love of Allah

Whose love heals

Mends

And rebuilds

Our fragile, broken hearts

Taken from: phsdphoto2.blogspot.com

My Cave [Poem]

They ask me, "So what is this cave you speak of?"
In my head a dozen thoughts enter,
Explanations to this question, which cannot possibly have just one answer.

My cave, I think to myself,
Is a world into my dreams -
And disappointments too.

Sometimes, it accompanies me to dinner parties,
You know, that blank gaze into thin air, you happen to notice?
Yes, that's just a moment I had to step into my cave for a bit.
You see,
It's so messy sometimes, so many thoughts everywhere,
So I have to search under my mattress of goals,
Step over the piles of worries that sit near my chest of dreams,
Clear out the wardrobe of fears,
Dust away those specks of sadness,
Dry the tiny droplets of tears,
That somehow, always make their way in,
Maybe due to the broken roof?
After all, it is a cave.

Most of the time, I resort to my cave when I'm drained,
After a day of babbling with adorable babies,
Or,
After chit-chatting with my siblings,
Sometimes I will resort to my cave,
When I need to recharge my batteries,
Or quench my thirst for knowledge,
And my deep hunger for soul food.

Oh yes,
Sometimes,
My cave feels empty without another understanding soul,
Someone who can dry the tiny droplets of tears,
Fix that broken roof,
Its always breaking; tiny cracks everywhere,
Or surprise me with a bigger chest of dreams,
After all, isn't a good companion better than none at all?

And sometimes,
I simply love to bask in the sweet moments of solitude,
Where it's just me and Him.
And my thoughts,
And my pen,
I love to watch the ink absorb into the paper,
Tiny swirls,
And lots of scruffy letters,
Its like the ink breathes life,
Into those millions of contemplations.

Sometimes it just me and the words of my Lord,
Which brings colour and hope to my cave,
My life,
And my whole world.

So no,
It's not that I'm boring, or dislike being around -
The human creation,
I'm human too, (I assure you).
My cave is just a window into the world of my thoughts,
Please don't mind when the window is blurry,
Sometimes you can see clearly,
Only when your inside.

But in short,
My cave...
Is a place I can dream a new dream,
Reflect,
Recharge,
Rekindle my hope,
And organise my many thoughts,
So I can return,
Better,
Re-energised,
And clearer in my sight, my vision,
And my understanding,
Than before.

And so you walk...

You will fall.
Sometimes, in a way you never expected to,
In a manner you never perceived, 
But how is it that, O traveller, you let your worth be defined by the falls?
Every journey has its fair share of struggles,
It has its bumby roads and dead ends,
It has those sharp bends and unexpected storms,
It has its grey skies, but it also has its sunny spells,
It has its long, winded paths which sometimes exhaust you -
To a point you become unable to walk any further,
Your clothes are torn, your eyes swollen,
Your face muddy, and your feet sore,
Your mind lost, your lips chapped,
Your hair disheveled and your heart, broken.
Yet,
You believe.
So you rise,
You brush off the dust,
You force a smile,
You pull up your sleeves,
And you stand up tall,
You walk a few steps, it hurts, but you walk,
And you walk,
And you walk,
And you walk.
For the path to Jannah was never going to be easy,
How can it be?
When Paradise is a place that our heart and eyes can't perceive,
When you will dwell in peace and tranquility for eternity,
So with your eyes set on this mesmerising goal,
And with your heart filled with an overwhelming love,
For Al-Qawiyy,
You keep going.
Treading the path of truth,
Stronger now than ever before,
Determined to never give up,
Fighting every battle, and every strong wind,
Every rocky path, and sudden sandstorm,
Every devils whisper and his continious calls,
Till you reach your desired Home,
Till you reach,
Paradise.

The Broken Heart

So many times I've come to you broken,
Broken and betrayed.
Yet, as I held those tiny shattered pieces in my hands,
Sorrowful over that which caused me pain,
You intervened.
Soothed my grief with the coolness of faith,
Calmed my worries when they were too difficult to face,
Strengthened my soul when a weak heart cried,
Filled it with a kind of peace words can't describe,
But most of all,
You inspired me to pray,
Through the agony and tears,
You taught me words,
Which cooled the burning fury and rage,
Which caused my heartbeat to go back to its normal pace,
And gave me another rope to hold onto tight,
Reminded me that light would follow even the darkest night,
Those words?
'O Allah take me out of my plight and bring to me after it something better.'

<3

Don't stop...

When life gets heavy and chaos surrounds, don't stop.

When the future looks dim, and when confusion arises, don't stop.

When things suddenly change, and when it hurts to move on, don't stop.

When things are taking its time, and when the climbing is long, don't stop.

Keep going. One day you will get there. But don't stop. <3

What is Love?

What is love?

Is love just an emotion;

a fleeting feeling?

Or is love more than but what a heart feels?

Love is to endure sleepless nights so your child sleeps peacefully,

Love is working day and night to provide for your family,

Love is the man of your dreams, a man of deen,

Love is a bird that guards her eggs under her smooth, soft wings,

Love is caring for an orphan and her young siblings,

Love is a warm kiss on the cheek of a new born baby.

Love.

Love is placing your forehead on the ground; a love story only those who pray will feel,

Love is lifting your blanket just before dawn, a feeling so surreal,

Love is the feeling of thirst and hunger on a long summer’s day,

Love is helping your fellow Muslim, going out your way,

Love is tears that fall from your eyes whenever you hear His name,

Love is shouting Takbeer to a fellow new-muslim,

Love is standing feet to feet, shoulder to shoulder under the dusky night sky,

Love is dreaming of Jannah, under the shade of a huge tree will you lie,

Love is gazing at the Kaab’ah and whispering a sincere Praise,

Love is walking into Madinah, fixed is your gaze,