“..and the skin on his forehead torn away..”

This is a picture of the 26 year old hotel worker who was killed while in the custody of the British Soldiers in Iraq [follow the story here]. This is what his father said:

“When I saw the corpse I burst into tears and I still cannot bear to think about what I saw. I was horrified to see that my son had been severely beaten and his body was literally covered in blood and bruises … He had a badly broken nose. There was blood coming from his nose and mouth. The skin on one side of his face had been torn away to reveal the flesh beneath. There were severe patches of bruising over all of his body. The skin on his wrists had been torn off and the skin on his forehead torn away and there was no skin under his eyes either.”

I read that description over and over until I knew my heart couldn’t bear anymore of it. Subhaan’Allaah, may Allaah’s curse be upon all of those responsible for this. These animals who live in the bodies of human beings made a big deal when their panzy soliders were detained in Iran and treated with luxury, while they do this to our brothers [don’t tell me he was a shi`aa ’cause I don’t give a damn]? These [the soldiers, including the British, the American and the Canadians] animals, and I ask Allaah to humiliate them in both this world and the hereafter, have lost the right to be referred to as “people” or “humans” because they’re nothing but cold-blooded barbarous beasts. They are the real terrorists. They are the one’s responsible for the atrocities committed all over the world. Its their people who randomly massacre innocents. Who knows the reasons why they do this, but perhaps for some it is simply the work of a psychopath whereas for others like these soldiers its utter and pure hatred for Muslims.

This story of Mousa is just one of the millions that are unspoken of. Imagine, that their blood on not only on the hands of these scum bags, but also us, Muslims due to our sheer silence over this.

What more will it take for us to wake up? Does something like this have to happen to every single muslim family (may Allaah protect us all) for us to realize that these Muslims who may not be our kin, are still our brothers and sisters? They are as beloved to us, as our blood brothers.

Seven soldiers were acquitted in March after Mr Mousa’s death. Another, Corporal Donald Payne, 35, of the QLR, admitted the war crime of treating a number of Iraqis in his custody inhumanely. He became the first British convicted war criminal and is awaiting sentencing.

Oh Allaah, bring them to justice and send your wrath upon those who commit atrocities against the Ummah of your beloved (sallallaahu `alayhi wasallam) and grant us the strength to speak the truth, aameen.

Ten weird things.

Okay, so I got tagged by Umm Layth (who thinks I’m a very boring person :P) and I had to come up with 10 weird things about myself. Here’s the rule btw, for those who I’m gonna tag next:

“People who get tagged must write in a blog of their own ten weird things or habits or little known facts as well as state this rule clearly. At the end you must choose six people to be tagged and list their names. No tagbacks!”

1. I don’t eat until someone reminds me. Happens often at work.

2. My niece calls me mommy.

3. I blush very easily. I was once talking to one of my colleagues, and I had just mentioned something good (I swear) about my boss and he walked up right behind me, out of nowhere. And my face turned red. Like, tomato red. It was so bad, that my colleagues bugged me about it for the rest of the week.

4. I’m a scaredy-cat when it comes to cats. I just cannot stand cats. I remember a while back I was at sister bismillaah’s house. We had a sleep over. So when I woke up in the morning, her kitten was sitting ontop of my face. I had a blanket over my face (its a habit of mine) but I could feel her purring. Oh man, that was one awful moment for me.

5. I cannot sleep if a single thing in my room is misplaced.

6. I hate sunglasses. I never wore them except for this one time when the sun was too bright for me to see ahead on the road while I was driving, I put on this old pair of sunglasses which were huge (they’d been in my dad’s car for the longest time catching dust), and they’d keep falling off my nose.

7. I don’t scream. Or maybe I can’t. I recall an incident about a year ago where my hijaab caught fire while I was trying to add a burning effect/look to a sheet of paper. I stood there for like a few seconds in shock and I couldn’t scream, until my sister saw it and yanked it off me.

8. I’m not afraid of jinns.

9. I wake up a couple of times during the night to check if my niece is breathing.

10. Finallllllyyyyy. The last one. Hmm. I hate comedies. Be it movies, shows, whatever. I just hate ’em.

Now, to tag 6 people man? I don’t even know that many. Hmm..

Mariya, Saadiyeh, Mujaahidah, Maverick, Nuqtah and Salafiyya.

حبيبي أنت رحمانــــــي

حبيبي أنت رحمانــــــي


أنا إن تبت منانـــــــــي وإن أذنبت رجانــــــــي
وإن أدبرت نادانــــــــي وإن أقبلت أدنانــــــــي
وإن أحببت والانـــــــي وإن أخلصت ناجانـــــي
وإن قصرت عافانــــــي وإن أحسنت جازانـــــي

حبيبي أنت رحمانــــــي

إليك الشوق من قلبـي على سري وإعلانــــي
فيا أكرم من يرجــــــى وأنت قديم إحسانــــي
وما كنت على هـــــذا إله الناس تنسانــــــي
لدى الدنيا وفي العقبى على ما كان من شانــي

حبيبي أنت رحمانــــــي

You’ll be alright.


{For Susan/Simsim}


You feel like a candle in a hurricane
Just like a picture with a broken frame
Alone and helpless like you’ve lost your fight
But you’ll be alright, you’ll be alright

Cause when push comes to shove
You taste what you’re made of
You might bend ‘til you break
Cause it’s all you can take
On your knees you look up
Decide you’ve had enough
You get mad, you get strong
Wipe your hands, shake it off
Then you stand, then you stand

Life’s like a novel with the end ripped out
The edge of canyon with only one way down
Take what you’re given before it’s gone
And start holdin’ on, keep holdin’ on

Every time you get up and get back in the race
One more small piece of you starts to fall into place

Yeah, then you stand.


Beauty in simplicity?

Someone recently asked me for an answer to this question: “When you see another woman, scantily dressed, getting all the attention and looks and whatever, dont you feel envious..?” And my first reaction was, “Hell no.” I would envy a sister walking on the street completely covered, head to toe and with her head high, yet humble. But never a woman who’s stared at. There’s nothing good about being looked at up and down and viewed as a piece of meat. Thats just totally sick and this is partly the reason why there’s so much corruption in these societies, including “Muslim” societies. I’m sure most sisters feel that way, don’t you guys?

I remember a couple years ago in highschool, I’d see sisters who’d come to school wearing jilbaabs and then take them off, put them away in their lockers. And they put so much effort into “looking good”. I’ve always thought there’s beauty in simplicity. And I strongly believe that. It holds true not only for women but also for men.

This makes me wonder if lust is the only thing on a man’s mind when he sees a woman. That makes me shudder.. Perhaps not all, but some are like that.


Tired and in pain.. I’m reminded of this saying of al-Hasan al-Basree rahimahullaah: “People are the same in health but when hardship befalls they show distinction.”

May Allaah increase us in sabr.

Sometimes you’re so close to giving up, and thats when something hits you and you get up, carrying on stronger than before. But one thing that frustrates me is when people say, “be patient..” and with that they expect you to simply forget about the pain (whether emotional or physical) you’re going through. That’s not patience. You can’t not feel hurt when you’re hurting. But you can practice patience by accepting the decree of Allaah and placing your trust in Him. Patience does not eliminate pain, which is why the one who practices patience is so dear to Allaah but it makes bearing it more pleasurable.. wAllaahu a`lam.

OMG a monster!

I don’t understand why women are usually so terrified of living with their in-laws. It may not be the best possible option but its not the worst either. For every horror story out there (about mother and sister in laws) there’s a good one too. Mother in-laws are not evil. They’re just misunderstood (in most cases).

All you have to do, to avoid arguements and animosity, is to show love and care. The way you would love your own mother. Because this woman who’s son you married, is a mother too. Not yours, but your husband’s. She has rights over her son, the same way a wife has over her husband. I refuse to believe that if one were to remain patient, and take care of the husband’s parents, that they won’t finally give in and treat their daughter in-law with the same love and affection. They’re parents too afterall.

I hate how people make them out to be some sort of devils and witches, who have nothing better to do than making your life hell. I know that it’d more preferable to have a separate house/apartment than them but if due to the husband’s financial circumstances or if his parents wish for him and his wife to live with them, then in that case, just take it easy and do what you have to do: i.e. be a good muslim woman. Everything will fall into place. Our job is to please Allaah and that requires sacrifice. This life is not meant to be easy.

So yeah, in-laws are not monsters. You’ll be one too someday.

: )

Every step of the journey is a journey.

So a few days ago, a friend asked me what I understood from the above quote [Every step of the journey is a journey]. I thought for a while and then I said that it reminded me of an old tree, where the branches are like the different paths or journeys we take upon in our lives. And the tree itself bears the signs of storms, rains, heat and cold just like a person at an old age with a weathered skin reflects the various trials of life.


The life of a tree actually resembles the life of a believer in many ways. You see the roots spread under the soil, planted firmly.. Its like the imaan of a believer from which stems a`maal whether good or bad (depending on the strength of one’s imaan). And the branches above the soil are the toils of life, the tests that Allaah puts us through inorder to purify us. But they’re also valuable lessons, each branch, each journey no matter how long or short, how high or low, has hidden morals for us. The fruits in return, are like the outcomes and consequences of our actions. Some are sweet, while others are bitter.

I wonder sometimes, if trees could talk.. they’d have so many stories to tell. Don’t you think?