Magic in the water, magic in the sky

Last night the 8 of us visited the Bioluminescent Bay here in Vieques, an island off the coast of Puerto Rico. (Our annual WP trip with Farida and Husain). 

Our guide met us on the boardwalk where we were scarfing down french fries and staring at the Caribbean Sea. We piled into his van and turned onto a bumpy dirt road. Eventually we stopped at a gap in the mongrove trees, put on life vests and discarded our shoes, and squelched through the mud to the kayaks. We boarded - 2 people per kayak. 

At this point we were giddy with excitement. Barefoot in the mud, we felt some creatures walking over our feet. We were told they were female violin crabs who were here to lay their eggs. (Upon finding out they were crabs, we obviously did the requisite squealing and screaming.)

We then rowed out into the bay. The night was perfectly quiet and still. The only movement came from our paddles. We glided through the water in a group and marveled at the warmth of the water.

The guide explained to us that the glow we were about to experience was caused by plankton which, when agitated, initiated a defense mechanism that causes their bodies to shine from within. 

And then the glow began to surround us. As we splashed our hands in the water, they glowed. The glass bottoms of the kayaks glowed. The stars on this clear night- they twinkled, they glowed. 

We couldn't decide whether to gaze above us at the bedazzled sky or below us at the stars in the water. It was glorious and exciting and relaxing and serene at the same time. 

I found myself exclaiming happily; I found myself contemplating our place among the stars. It was joyous; it was calm. 

As we scooped water in our hands and let it trickle down our forearms, our arms became covered in sparkling light. 

Thank you, plankton. You made that night one of the most magical of my life. 

Alhamdolillah. 

Moving and Settling In

So it's been about 10 days since we moved into the new house. We moved last Thursday, and spent about 4 days turbo-unpacking so that by the end of the weekend, we had unpacked every box. Then the next week was spent arranging and organizing and even decorating.

So now I can comfortably say that we are almost done.

As T mentioned in his blog post, everything still feels very new. A few months ago, when the house was still being built and all around us were plywood walls and concrete floors, we had our "light switch walk through"- we told the builder where we wanted the light switches to go and what we wanted them to operate. At that time, I couldn't have imagined how the house would turn out. As I look around at the now-finished home, with everything we chose over all those months actually installed in the house, I am still taken aback at the fact that it's actually done. 

Everywhere I look, I see the items T and I chose together. The aspects, the features, the placements, the finishes, the very walls, the floorplan, the whole thing. And we had so much fun doing it- and even that fun is part of the house now. The experience, the teamwork, the discussions, the decisions, the delights, the disappointments, the deadlines, the shopping trips, and most of all, the fun- all of that is part of the house. And now we finally get to live here, and I can only say alhamdolillah for that.

I still don't quite know what switches operate what. I flip the wrong ones all the time. I am not on autopilot yet in this house. It feels like home, but it feels unfamiliar still. We aren't taking things for granted yet- we are not blindly walking a path from bed to bath or from kitchen to stairs or from mudroom to kitchen- these paths, inshallah, will become traversed thousands and thousands of times as we age in this house. But today, at this moment, it is all still so new. I still haven't sat on every seat in the house. I still haven't stood in every spot. I still haven't cleaned every crevice, haha!

The newness, once lost, will be lost forever. It will be replaced by familiarity, which is lovely and comfortable and will truly let us know we are home. And I welcome that. But for now, I want to savor the newness.

Alhamdolillah.

Mr. R comes to masjid

This past week, our jamaat lost some of its very valued members. The repeated hits have taken a toll on the psyche of the jamaat. Yet today, even as the rain fell upon this grey day, the sun shone brightly inside the masjid. 

We experienced a momentous and uplifting afternoon, for the man who saved so many of our mumineen visited the masjid. Our jamaat invited him to come and visit as our honored guest.

He brought his family with him, and from the moment they walked through the door, we made it our priority to make him and his family feel welcome and to try to impart to them how meaningful his actions were to our jamaat.

If not for Mr. Mike R, we would have lost 9 mumineen instead of 1. It is unthinkable. 

And it is deeply spiritually satisfying to think that Allah put the right person in the right place at the right time. Alhamdolillah.

I was asked to be a liason between the members of Mike's family and our jamaat. It was my honor and pleasure to be able to show them around, make them comfortable, explain our customs, get to know them. 

The family Mike saved was introduced to him. Many hugs ensued. Emotions were running high at this point- so many people had tears in their eyes. And before my own, bridges were being built. It was truly a beautiful moment amidst the tragedy of the past week.

My dad delivered a small speech to Mike. Mike took the mic and said a few words too. The jamaat then presented Mike with a shawl. When I explained the significance of the shawl to Mike's wife, she looked as touched as I felt.

Hundreds of people made their way over to Mike and his family to shake their hands and say thank you. Mike, you could tell, was overwhelmed with the outpouring. But as I told him and his family, we are all one. You save 8 of us, and you have 800 more who want to embrace you as their brother. In a way, he saved all of us - with his selflessness and his bravery, he gave us something to praise, to wonder at. To raise up and to gain strength from.

We took Mike and his family down to eat. They ate the kheemo and the daal chawal and we talked about the thaali and college and our customs and parenting and... well... life.

There was just love, love, love. Sadness, support, taziyat, dua, and love, love, love. Alhamdolillah. That's all it takes.

Post Ashara 1437

We just got back from Houston Ashara 1437.

Still reeling. Processing my feelings. Trying to absorb this incredible experience.

Hectic, chaotic, exhausting, amazing, beautiful.

We stayed with friends who are like dear family. And my parents stayed with us for a few days too.

I got to attend waaz daily with someone who is my dear bhen. We got deedar. We got qadmbosi. We got nazar. I attended my R2S meetings and there I got to connect with new people and old friends - all wonderful people. We went to a ziyafat where such intense and surreal and beautiful things happened that I haven't yet been able to journal about them.

And the waaz. The daily, incredibly rich, metaphor-filled, enlightening, reassuring, encouraging waaz, which charged our batteries and renewed our strength and readied us for the year ahead. The best new year's resolution one can make at the beginning of moharram, the first month of the year, is to spend the following first month of the new year exactly the same way. Letting these waaz envelop us.

We are lucky, blessed. Alhamdolillah.

I think the feeling of renewal and recharging has trickled into other aspects of my life too. I am noticing that as I read, I am picking out gems the way I used to, writing them down- I haven't done this for years, since I had kids and my leisure time diminished. I still read constantly, but I don't have the luxury anymore of easily transcribing the gems into my journal or this blog.

But let me try to get back into that.

I am reading "The Little Paris Bookshop" at the moment. Two gems I came across so far:

"Some stars had seen the dinosaurs and the Neanderthals; they had seen the pyramids rise and Columbus discover America. For them, the earth was one more island world in the immeasurable ocean of outer space, its inhabitants microscopically small."

"Perdu suspected that these small children, listening with eyes wide and in rapt concentration, would one day grow up to need reading, with its accompanying sense of wonder and the feeling of having a film running inside your head, as much as they needed air to breathe."

Eid!

Today was Eid. One of my very favorite days of the year.

I have been reading people's reflections as Sherullah draws to a close. People are thinking about what they want to carry forward from Ramazaan, what they want to retain. How they've done. Their resolutions, their wins, their shortcomings. 

While I am certainly also thinking about what the past month has meant to me, today I am fully in the present. I am no longer in the routine of the past 30 days. Masjid every night. Rozu every day. Nocturnal schedules, focused ibadat, dehydration headaches, so much Quran, so much satisfaction, so much striving.

I am also not yet in the post-Ramazan days. Withdrawal from the schedule has not yet set in, I have not yet figured out how the past month will affect my next months- spiritually, mentally. I have not yet reestablished a "normal" schedule. I have not yet slept a full night. 

Instead, I am only in the now. The one day, Eid, that is suspended between Ramazan and post-Ramazan. The day we celebrate. The day my community members - the people I have known since infancy - are so, so happy. So dressed up. Exchanging greetings and gifts and laughs with abandon.

I love Eid. I feel love and I feel loved. And whatever happens tomorrow, today is a remarkable day. A magical day. A day out of time, in which I don't have to reflect upon yesterday or decide about tomorrow. 

Side note- Eid 2015 was red-letter for Yusuf. He has been coveting the Xbox One that has sat on the raffle table for the past month, walking by it daily and telling me, "I hope we win that!" I knew that the chances of winning the one thing he wanted were slim, so all month, I have told him, "Yes, that would be cool! But if we don't win, it's ok! Alhamdolillah, right?" And he has dutifully answered, "Yes, alhamdolillah."

Today. The raffle began. They announced some prizes and winners. And then they announced the Xbox and Yusuf looked at me with hope in his eyes. I love that boy and his optimism :) But then. They called my name. I was in disbelief- there was no way this could work out this beautifully. But it was true, and Yusuf was cheering excitedly to prove it. I won the Xbox, and Yusuf got what he had been clearly doing the right kind of dua for all month :)

I am proud of my kids. They participated in the Quran competition and did beautifully. They were so comfortable on stage- they seemed to be enjoying themselves. Nooriya loved being up there. Yusuf was at ease.

All month, they have worked hard at hifzing. They have stretched themselves and they have achieved so much.

I learned from them this month. I decided to not only host family Eid dinner at our house, but to cook for it as well. I don't like to cook, and I don't hide that fact. But it occurred to me - I needed to stretch myself as well. I haven't cooked for my extended family in longer than I can remember. So I cooked. Yesterday and today, I cooked. I took a page from Yusuf and Nooriya's book and I tried something new. 

And my sasu sasra were happy, and proud, and they told me so. They are used to seeing me do interviews and have literary accomplishments, and they say they are proud, but when I cooked for them, they were truly delighted. And I was proud of myself.

So. On this magical day, Yusuf's wish came true, my enchiladas were delicious, I spent the day surrounded by family and friends, and all I can say is this: may my last word always be

Alhamdolillah.

Women's Ijtema in India

A couple days ago I returned from a week-long trip to India. I was there because I was asked to speak at a Muminaat Ijtema (a women's educational forum) that was taking place in Mumbai. 

The ijtema was organized by Zaenab Bhensaheb, the wife of Moula's (tus) oldest son. Over 300 women attended. The event primarily consisted of a moderated panel discussion, but also included videos, visual presentations, and a couple of poetry readings/speeches.

The point of this ijtema was to open up a dialogue and reach out to the young women of our community- to create a space in which these women could gain perspective, ask their questions, and be heard. Not too different from the mission of ISFM :)

I was proud to be a part of this ijtema. I think honest dialogue is powerful, and in widening an individual's perspective, you are giving him/her the tools to affect positive change in this world. We all have so much to learn from one another, and united in our desire to carry out Moula's (tus) khushi, we embody potential in the very best sense of the word. I have never been so proud to be a muminah as when I looked out at the audience and realized that I can count myself one of this group of strong, intelligent, curious, beautiful, caring women. It was a powerful moment for me.

I was supported by many people as I endeavored to go on this trip. My mom came with me, so that I had her company and her solid presence with me throughout; Taher gave me immense peace of mind as he beautifully handled the kids, his job, and the house while I was far away; my dad told me he was proud of me- praise that continually ranks higher than any other I have ever been given. Thanks to the women who attended the ijtema and to those who have been sending in their feedback- thanks especially to the lovely young ladies who approached me during and after the event to tell me they were inspired by what was discussed and that they gained fresh perspective.

Alhamdolillah- a great experience :)

my mom's letter

in september 1978, aqa moula (tus) made his first trip to america, and my parents had the enormous barakat of having utaro at their house.

the first american house into which aqa moula (tus) stepped is the house in which i took my own first steps.

when this historic visit took place, my mom wrote a letter to her parents and family in india, telling them in detail how the visit came about, what it was like to have aqa moula (tus) there, what went on, who was there, etc. she read the letter to me last week and it was suspenseful and thrilling and written in such amazing detail that i was riveted. it is such an important letter, in that she has caputured a part of our family's history as well as a significant moment in the history of dawat.

my family- my parents, brother and i - were lucky enough to have two private ziyafats in the period of time that aqa moula (tus) was in the house, and i received qadam bosi at the age of one month. i know that the happiness i have experienced since then is a result of this barakat.

the letter that my mom wrote is a treasure- without it, i would never have known that as aqa moula (tus) took afternoon chai in the backyard of my house, he asked my mother to bring me over to him, and then had my dad take a video of this. i would never know that aqa moula (tus) gave my mom a taweez that he wrote by hand just for me. the visit was marked by one perfect moment after another, and after reliving these moments through my mom's letter, i am so infinitely thankful for the barakat of that visit.

alhamdolillah.

journey

watching yusuf learn to be himself, i think about his history- about the people who laid the groundwork for him to be here.

his four grandparents moved here almost four decades ago, leaving one of the world's oldest civilizations to make a home in one of the newest. their lives changed in ways i cannot imagine, and they became used to a completely different existence.

maybe, in our own ways, yusuf and i have been on similar journeys. i have come to inhabit a space called motherhood, which is surprising and foreign and a world apart from where i lived before. yet i've found my place within it, made it my home. yusuf's journey, though, trumps all, i think. every single day, i feel, is a different world from the day before. he has yet to find a stopping point where he can just be. rather things are always moving and changing around him, and when he finally gets his bearings, things change again.

yet he seems to be taking it all in stride. yes, there are new things to explore. new words to learn. toys and people and books and field trips and lights and music and errands and food- so much newness that it's clear he is programmed to handle it better than any habit-bound adult ever could.

he inspires me not to rest on the achievements i already attribute to myself, not to congratulate myself too heartily for the difficult things that i accomplish. yusuf accomplishes something every single day, and, determined and curious, he moves ever forward.

pure

today, as yusuf napped, i sat in the huge armchair in my library, reading. and suddenly, out of nowhere, it started to pour. i looked out the window and saw the best kind of rainfall- the sun was shining so brightly that the rain seemed completely out of place, even as it took over the scene. the rain was clear and sparkling and soundless.

i forgot for a moment what day it was, what month it was, even what season it was. it didn't feel like july, like summer. it just felt like a clean, pure rainy day.

and then yusuf woke up from his nap and the rain seemed to magically be linked to him, for it stopped as soon as he cried. and as i climbed the stairs to get him, everything indoors and out seemed renewed and fresh and bright.

it doesn't happen everyday, but sometimes i feel completely in tune with things that i am only a tiny part of, and it's wonderful.

movement

lately yusuf has learned to roll - he only does one roll at a time now, but i can see how very quickly this will change, and he will be that most exciting of things: mobile!

as he gets older, time is moving more quickly. i can imagine him doing things that i couldn't fathom when he was a newborn. while being home with him is certainly hard work at times, i find myself being rewarded in lovely ways. he smiles for people, of course, but the smiles i get are more frequent, brighter and more joyous than anyone else sees. this is how he pays me for my time, and i am extremely thankful for it.

his milestones seem so momentous to me, and each day seems like such a large amount of time. the day he walks off to school seems like another lifetime, and i find myself wondering how so much can change and so much time can go by, for such a miracle to occur. yet i know that years are mere pinpoints and that this special time with my son, these days i take for granted in which to play with him, cuddle him, scramble for a moment to myself here and there- these days will one day be memories only.

how far away

"i am still enchanted
by the light you brought to me.
i listen through your ears
and through your eyes i can see..."

when you first fall in love, every song takes on new meaning. i've been experiencing that since yusuf came along and put taher and i under his spell. the above lyric just seems to be exactly what goes on these days- yusuf staring at the world around him with such intensity and such curiousity that i imagine his brain must be experiencing sensory overload.

it must be hard work, being a baby. he can't take anything for granted and can't look at anything without trillions of connections being made in his brain. sometimes i'm not surprised he just wants to sleep. or cry :)

the other day, as i drove into the city, i could see the chicago skyline before me, and it made me think of a sight that once was familiar to me. when i lived in cairo, on a clear day you could see the outlines of the two larger pyramids on the horizon. they were a 30 minute drive away and yet the two perfect triangles seemed so tangible and so stark. i grew to think of this sight at the "Cairo skyline", and i would remember fondly the chicago one.

the other day, then, seeing the chicago skyline, i was reminded how very much i considered cairo my second home. i had traveled far from everything familiar and found myself feeling very settled, very much a part of my surroundings. i glanced in the backseat at yusuf and wondered, one day, where will he go? what will he see? these days he is with me 24 hours a day, and if i am gone for a few hours, he is with taher. but one day he might travel far from us and become a part of a world i will only visit. he may make a second home in a city that i cannot begin to understand.

it's so strange that although right now he doesn't do anything with my knowing about it, the potential is already within him for an entire life. i wonder what he will do with it and i hope that no matter how far he travels, he will still look at his family and think, as i do, that there is home.

due date

two weeks ago, taher and i welcomed yusuf into our lives. and hearts. and arms.

life has, of course, changed drastically and this tiny little person has relegated me to a life of feedings, diapers, very small clothing and endless conversations about poop. and i completely love him for it.

i keep looking at him and thinking, wow, it was you who was inside my tummy all that time. growing bigger, kicking me, being the subject of our musings and our anticipation. we waited all this time for someone we couldn't even begin to imagine, and all that time it was you.

i am amazed that he is finally here. it's been hard work thus far, and i'm sure it will continue to be hard, but it is, at the risk of sounding cliche, the most rewarding thing ever.

the brand new cutie

my brother's brand new daughter was born a few weeks ago; we flew to houston last week to see her. as faiji, i performed the chatthi and was amazed once again how even the fussiest newborn instantly quiets down and listens intently when the duas are prayed in their ear.

my new niece, alefiyah, did just this. she's tiny and i was leaning over her to pray in her ears, and it couldn't have been comfortable for her. it was warm in that room and there was a lot of activity; when i changed her clothes and put her bangles on she was fussy. yet as soon as that part was over and i started the duas, she was clearly interested, and i find this fascinating in a child of 6 days. how do they know that now, if ever, they should listen?

it's amazing.

pictures to follow!