is Jannah as sweet,
without the triumph of making it there?
would the rest be blissful,
without the toils of this world?
Is there still hope for me? From dust, I was brought into the world. And to dust I shall return. Yet I wonder, have I spent these years well? Have I served my lord well?
They will question your voice, your tone, your eyes / Or worse, they make you doubt your own designs / They will scare you with fables of infamous lies…
To look at the Kaaba with love…
“It’s so cute.” Cute? You may have thought I had seen a baby otter. In reality, I was many feet away from the Kaaba, seeing it for the first time as an adult.
I never knew that that softness, too, is a color of strength. Not a shade, not a hue, not a tint—but a true color palette in its own right. A warm yellow, in some moments; a deep, steady blue in others. The white of surrender, the red of warmth, the deep brown that builds a home.
Lipstick and nine dead bodies. That’s how her morning began and how her life, as she knew it, ended.
Dear younger me, Reverting to Islam is one of the most life-changing decisions you ever made for yourself. Remember ten months ago—you were sitting in a hospital room, wondering where your life would go after wanting to commit suicide.
Six years ago, I was broken, a shell of myself and I had the wrong understanding of Allah.
There were days when I questioned everything, days when the world was so heavy, the only reason I got out of bed was because two little eyes and a bundle of hair appeared by my side every morning. Telling me she needed me—and the guilt kicked me awake.
