My Apologies

Bismillah Ar Rahman Ar Raheem
Assalaamu alaikum wa rahmathullah wa barakatuhu

It seems a lifetime since I last posted anything here, and even now I am not sure how long this posting is going to be.  With Ramadan rapidly approaching, I have a mass of things I would like to clear up before entering into that Holy Month and concentrating more of my Deen than may normally be the case insha'Allah.

Mashallah Life has been good although hectic as work has been piling up and so I have had to postpone some travelling than I had hoped might be possible during the winter.  Now summer is here and surviving the heat this far south is a full time occupation.  Luckily we have effective air-conditioning but when we step outside the heat is overwhelming.  And it's going to get hotter.

At least I have at least written something here, even if this blog is very short and not of much interest.  But next time I hope to find a topic and to write something more enlivening that this short blog insha'Allah.

Until then, may Allah (subhana wa ta'ala) protect and guide you all.  Ameen.

 

Pure Blogger, blogs and confusion !

 

Bismillah Ar Rahman Ar Raheem
Assalaamu alaikum wa rahmathullah wa barakatuhu

I always seem to be complaining that I waste good work time as I am easily distracted, and I get side-tracked into doing totally unnecessary things, almost as though I was avoiding work.

My latest distraction is a site called Pure Bloggers  (http://purebloggers.com).  I got an e-mail a week or so again from Pure Bloggers, telling me that, if I wanted the whole world to come to read this blog, I should join their site for free.   Being a sucker for anything free (and because my anti-virus software said the site was safe), I signed up and found myself in a site that looked like Face Book a few years ago.   The difference was that I couldn't and still can't find any explanation about how the site was going to benefit me or my blog. 

I started off with no friends and was surprised when I discovered that everyone else there didn't seem to have many or even any friends either.   So I made friends with several people with whom I shared one thing  -  we all had NO idea what the site was for.   A week later and I have several friends who are still as confused as I am, probably because it looks like the site went on stream a few days before I joined.  Even the links to friends' blogs have to be copied and pasted so as to access their blogs, as the site doesn't seem to have got round to opening any external links.  So I have been wasting my time dealing with applications for friendship and generally trying to find out how the site can be useful. 

What the site has done is to get me to look at blogs which I normally wouldn't bother about;  in the past the only ones I read were Islamic ones, and predominately ones written by my sisters in Islam.  So I have widened my bloggersphere which is no bad thing as they provide a micro view of the world, rather than the on-line newspapers, both Arabic and international, and sites from whom I get my world view at the moment.   But one thing has occurred to me after my on-going adventures with Pure Bloggers   -   it is that I am used to visiting and using sites that work perfectly all the time, and which have long ago got over their teething troubles.  So far it appears that Pure Bloggers is not only young but has yet to get over its teething troubles and hasn't yet got any focus.  It will be interested to see if it becomes just another social site like Face Book, or whether he becomes a useful tool for us bloggers.

Watch this space !!!

Evading Responsibility?

 Bismillah Ar Rahman Ar Raheem
Assalaamu alaikum wa rahmathullah wa barakatuhu

I was actually in Cairo a year ago during the wonderful demonstrations in Tahrer Square and even went to join the mass of people there on a couple of occasions, being swept along in the amazing feeling of optimist that seemed to fill the whole Square as the Mubarak regime toppled and fell.  When I left Cairo and came south to this haven of peace, Mubarak was under arrest and the army was promising democratic elections and that they would hand over power by next summer at the latest.

Since then we have had some elections but the tensions between the army and the civilians are getting worse all the time.  Stories of atrocities carried out by the soldiers against some of the demonstrators have emerged and there is a feeling that the army are not going to meekly hand over power, all of which had led to further and on-going demonstrations.   Of course what is happening in Cairo seems very remote from the tranquil existence that Amina and I share here.  And.........................  All of which makes me ask myself if I am evading responsibility as a Muslimah and an adopted Egyptian in sitting here and doing nothing to ensure that the army does step aside as they promise and that, for the first time since.............  forever .......... Egypt becomes a true democracy.

Oh, I have a whole regiment of excuses for now going back to Cairo or even joining the protesters here.   I am not even an Egyptian citizen, although I have spent more of my life in this country than I have in my native Jordan.  I am not political at all, and distrust politicians almost as much as I distrust the motives of the military.  I am just a young woman, without connections or affiliations that might make my voice listened to or even heard.   I could be ejected from the country as an undesirable alien if I got involved in demonstrations.  I am a naturally peaceful person, and..........................  And dozens other reasons for my inaction.

So I have lost sleep over what I should be doing.  I have prayed about it.  I have talked it over with Amina for hours.  I have sought my shaykh's advice.  And I am still as confused and undecided as ever.  Strangely, what it has brought home to me is that the two people who I would really have listened to are no longer there to guide me.   Two strong men, may they find peace in Jannah, whose views I respected, maybe even too unquestioningly.  Ahmed, my darling husband, and my Papa  -  I miss you now in a way that is new to me, and at a time when I thought I had become reconciled to Allah (subhana wa ta'ala) taking you from me. 

If I sound like a weak-spirited and submissive female, I am afraid that's not the truth;  both Papa and Ahmed have seen me argue my point with a great deal of heat and noise, even to the point of directly defying them when I really did feel I was right and they were wrong.  (Even if in most cases, time proved them to be right and that I was wrong.  But that's another story.) However the truth is that now I feel at a loss and in dire need of their wise advice.   Ah well, I suppose I will take what they call "the line of least resistance" and carry on as a spectator, viewing history being made from afar.  But I will have to ask myself whether I am doing that through cowardice, or because of my upbringing, or owing to what my family and friends expect of me as a young woman and as a muslimah. or because it's the most sensible thing for me to do.   For now I have no answers.  I hope it will not be too long before I can rationally answer my own questions insha'Allah.

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The Wanderer Returns

Bismillah Ar Rahman Ar Raheem,
Assalaamu alaikum wa rahmathullah wa barakatuhu

I am back................................. Amazingly three and a half years have passed since I last posted here. Those years have been the most momentous in my life and only now, escaping the noise and tensions of Cairo and moving south to Asyut, have I found the peace I have been seeking.

For those who don't know what has happened, I should explain that I am now a widow who married the man of my dreams when I was 21 and lost him less than two years later to a sudden illness, may he find peace in Jannah.

What happened after that was almost beyond bearing but I was supported by my deen and by Allah (subhana wa ta'ala) who, in his abundant mercy, granted me the strength to deal with such a tragedy. Yet, again thanks to Allah (swt), a very few years on from those traumas, I seem to have found happiness and stability, something that few young Arab 'femmes seules' seem able to do. Of course I am fortunate; when my beloved father died he left me the family home in Jordan, as my mother was well taken care of already, and my brothers and sisters were in stable marriages where money was not lacking. So, as the family charity case, our lovely home became mine and I now rent it out to a charming American businessman who works in Amman; he and his family enjoying the place where I had spent my own happy childhood.

I moved to Cairo but, when a old school friend invited me to share her home here in Asyut, I jumped at the chance as, thanks to modern technology, I can do my work on the end of a computer connection. Maybe it might be useful if I added something which sums up my life now.

Mashallah everything seems very peaceful today. I am sitting at a desk, my desk, while across the room Amina is working at the large table which she calls her desk. She is a freelance textile designer, a real artist who makes fabrics sing with joy and who can make the most mundane of material come to vibrant life. The quality of her work is even more amazing when you consider that she is 90% self-taught, yet many of the leading fashion houses in this part of the world are lining up in order to beg her to come up with an exclusive fabric design for their next collection. Also she is now getting an international reputation and her agent is talking to designers in Milan and Paris. But to me, she remains the same smiling girl with whom I shared my teenage life at school and during our holidays.

To add to the normality of the scene, her cat, Freak-Out, is asleep on Amina's desk, utterly relaxed in a nest of fabric swatches and a picture of the sort of happiness which only a much loved cat can show. Looking beyond him, the only male in our household, through the broad pictures windows I can see the sun-filled garden that ends on a three meter wall that protects us from the outside world. Our garden is not the sort of verdant paradise you see in France or Germany or England. Instead it is very 'Egyptian'. It is true that, like it's more northerly counterparts, it has flower beds, paths and lawns but these are baked by months of remorseless heat and sunshine and even now in the coolness of winter, any flowers being brown stalks, the lawn and pathways both dominated by grey-brown dust and cracked earth, any grass that has survived the summer months being sun-blackened and stunted, waiting for any rain, a rare commodity here. However they are managing to exist in this near desert that we optimistically called The Garden. In truth it's pleasant now; the daytime temperature still is about 20 - 25C, but that seems miraculously cool in comparison to the 40C we were experiencing regularly last summer.

So it is that Amina and I are spending the late afternoon, post siesta, working together in relaxed silence, each engrossed in what she is doing.

Of course I should be really working; I should be translating and mildly editing some articles sent to me by a Gulf-based journal. But instead, like millions of others round the world, I am writing for my own enjoyment. So I feel mildly guilty as I theoretically earn my bread by translating and editing, and the publishers are waiting for me to email back to him a pristine translation. But I tell myself that I promised it back by the 14th and it is nine-tenths completed, so I can afford to indulge myself in writing for my own enjoyment for once.

Strange how I see the life Amina and I share as being normal. It cannot be too common for a divorcée and a widow, both in their mid twenties, to be sharing a house together as we are. The divorcée is Amina who was married when she was eighteen, left her philandering husband when she was twenty and was divorced by the age of twenty three, while, as you know, I am the widow. Amina's financial security came via the divorce courts where her husband preferred to buy her silence rather than have the litany of his Don Juan conquests made public in court, even if the tabloids revelled in its details. And the house in which we live is also hers, bequeathed to her by her Grandfather, much to the disgust of her brothers and cousins. (I should say that I have Amina's permission to tell about her history, as I tell about mine. As she so rightly says, she has nothing to be ashamed off and has no worries about who knows about her past.)

So that is how we come to be sitting here at our desks this afternoon, Amina working and me enjoying myself in self-indulgent writing. In here, it is cool and tranquil, the only sound being the click of my keyboard and the occasional sound of a sketch being scrunched up and thrown into the waste paper basket by Amina's side. Normally we work to a background of soft-volumed music from Amina's vast library of CD but today, for some unknown reason, the room is a music-free zone, and no worse for it. Probably we will work (or write) for two hours before cramp, ennui or lack of inspiration will make one of us rise from her work place and stroll round the room, pausing at the window to watch the daylight fading from our arid garden. By then my iced water will have long ago been drunk, as will have Amina's Coke, so that one of us will yawn and say, "Coffee time!" and we will stroll down the corridor to the kitchen where we will talk about what we have done in the past two hours while the coffee percolates and fills the room with the mouth watering aroma of freshly made coffee.

Probably, as we sit, steaming mugs in hand, Amina will look at me and shake her head, her familiar grin spread across her lovely face, as for the hundredth time, will remark how sensible I am to wear a light and airy jilbab "in this weather". I, also for the hundredth time, will laugh and say it's only because I am old fashioned and totally lack her dress sense, while I admire the beautifully fabriced, but also cool, shalwar kameez she is wearing. Yes, just two young women discussing clothes, two friends relaxing together in a companionable and non-competitive environment. Two grown-up school friends gently finding their way from daytime to evening.

Yes, I do lead a normal life. Alhamdulillah, I am so lucky to do so.

Thought on Ramadhan and other topics.

Ramadhan has always been my favorite month of the year. I can recall as a child ticking off the days as it grew nearer to the start of that miraculous month when I could look forward to a time of peace and tranquility during the day, even in a house swarming with my siblings who were all older than me - two half-brothers and a half sister and my own brother and sister. Peace and tranquility? My Papa, always easy-going and, in my eyes, the perfect parent, only started laying down the law when it came to Ramadhan. In his house there would be NO arguments, NO shouting, NO rushing about. And if my brothers wished to fight about who had the use the car in the evening, they could do their fighting out of earshot of our house.
Nowadays I see the month in a rather different light and I have a better understanding of its meaning and how I can use it to get myself and my life back on an even keel. I still live with my parents although my brothers and sisters have long ago left and live with their own children and families elsewhere. But I love breaking my fast with my mother and later joining my father just to talk and relax. Yes, Ramadhan remains my favorite month and fasting is for me a delight rather than a chore. Its spiritual nature recharges my inner batteries and I feel the presence of Allah (subhana wa ta'ala) ever close to me.
So, rather late, I wish anyone reading these words RAMADHAN MUBARAK !
On a different note altogether, I have a sister (I like to think of her that way) who is not yet a Muslimah but whose heart is clearly leading her towards at least looking into the working of our wonderful deen. For a variety of reasons she was drawn to wearing hijaab and even niqaab and she has now progressed to seeking real knowledge of Islam. Where her journey will take her I do not know, as only Allah (subhana wa ta'ala) can have knowledge of that.
I was reading with wonder and awe her blogs about her progress and posted a comment which, I confess, didn't amount to much more than "WOW!" But I mentioned to her a sister here in Jordan who travelled the same road as she seems to be taking. I said I would write more about her if she agreed. I have just spoken to her on the phone and she is quite happy to have me tell her tale here, providing I didn't use her real name.
Let's call her 'Asma'. She is my age and was born into a Christian family of Lebanese descent who lived a kilometre from where I write now outside Amman. When she was 9 Asma was sent to England to be educated in a school run mainly by nuns, but she used to return here for the school holidays. Most of her friends in Jordan were from Muslim families and a lot of them, like myself, wore hijaab as a matter of course. By the time she was 16 she found that she used to look a bit strange when she went out with her friends during her school holidays, as she would be waring jeans or short skirts while we wore jilbob or abaya and hijaab - in some case, even niqaab by then. So as to fit in she started to wear longer skirts, blouses with long sleeves and hijaab covering her head and face. One day when she was going somewhere with me and another friend who also covered fully, she borrowed one of my jilbobs and niqaab and wore them.
Later she told me it was that day she decided to try to learn more about Islam as she realised she had become a 'nominal' Christian. As she said later, "Dressing like a real Muslimah maade me think like one for the first time." A year later she recited the Shahadah, submitting herself to Allah (subhana wa ta'ala) and now she is married to a Muslim doctor and has a little girl of her own. Her path to Islam had been a strange one and, because of it, I can not doubt my blog friend here, as who are we to ask Allah (subhana wa ta'ala) why he chooses sometimes strange paths for people to take towards Jannah. So I just make duaa that she may be happy and find peace in whatever way of life she chooses.
Why not say a prayer for her too......................
Walaikum salaam from your sister in Islam, Aliyah

Finding something surprising

Bismillah Ar Rahman Ar Raheem
Assalaamu alaikum wa rahmathullah wa barakatuhu
Astaghfirullah I am so sorry I have not been writing blogs for so long. It is my fault down partly to lazyness but also my father has been quite seriously ill and life has been very difficult for some time while he has been in hospital. Alhamdulillah he is a lot better now and is home again although he must go easy for some time. He is not a young man (in his 80s) but his brain is a clear and as agile as it ever was. Now he is slowly getting stronger and the doctors are hopeful that he will make a full recovery insha’Allah.
One of the reasons I am writing this afternoon is because after Jummah prayers at the masjid, I was talking to a friend who is a far more active person on the Net than I am. She told me that she had found a very interesting blog writing by a “Non-Muslim Niqaabi”. I must admit that the idea made me smile and wonder why on earth a woman who was not a Muslim would want to become a niqaabi. I am a niqaabi because, when I was a lot younger and wanted to follow my elder sisters in how they covered themselves, I read and studied all the daleels on the subject and was only permitted to wear niqaab when I had convinced my parents that I really thought it was fard or, at the least, mustahab. And also I wanted to veil because I desired to please Allah (subhana wa ta’ala).
In consequence finding someone who was not a Muslimah and had none of the reason that had made me adopt this form of covering came as a shock. Okay, so some Hindu women and also Greek ladies over 2000 years ago used to conceal their faces. But they did it for social reasons rather than religious ones. So finding a young woman from Texas doing the same had me puzzled.
I won’t go into her reasons as anyone reading this blog can go across to Heather’s own blog and read her reasons set down in her own words. But what her writings have done is to make me wonder if there are other girls and women in non-Muslim lands who find wearing niqaabi to be something they really wish to do. It will be interesting also to see how Heather gets on in future. Hers is one blog I will be reading in future with much interest.
Walaikum salaam, Aliyah.