On Gifts

A gift is a beautiful gesture, one that makes you feel special and important. The fact that at some instant of time, that someone thought of you and cared about you that much to want to get you something; it secretly screams "I remember you"(and yes I purposely did not write *remember* in past tense)
I don't know if it's just me, but gifts warm my heart in a way I'm failing to put into words. From small random gifts that just appear out of nowhere, that magically brighten my day, to thoughtful gifts that perfectly matches a detail about you or a need you had.
It takes special people to notice details about you and care the much to choose a gift that corresponds to something that matches a detail in you, a passion you have or an item you needed. Which I can interpret in some other words as "فن اختيار الهدايا"(definitely an art that I too much believe in and can claim to try, yes *try* to follow).

And THESE kind of gifts are another whole level of "heart warming and heart grinning".
It's a scream in your face not just merely "I remember you" BUT "I remember you, I notice stuff about you, you ARE special and I care that much to make you feel so"

I can claim, I have been too lucky to have some people in my life that have taught me this meaning. Every single word I wrote is inspired by their gifts. THEY are the reason for these words to come together, for every time they warmed my heart, for every time they made my heart grin. The beauty of their random and not random, small and big, always thoughtful gifts.

and then I remember "تهادوا تحابوا" and I know, I too much know -cause I have experienced thanks to these beautiful people- how تهادوا definitely, utterly and absolutely leads to تحابوا
 صدقت يا رسول الله، صدقت يا حبيب

                              Confiding in my sunglasses.

Today for some reason -don't want to go into unneeded details- but my tears were streaming down my face in a -not seemingly to end- flow in the middle of a public crowded place. I had nearly everyone look my way and obviously wondering why was I crying?!
Then I remembered the pair of sunglasses I had in my purse and had them on. That's when I was secretly thanking God for the blessing of such an invention. It was like a wall I could confide in all those emotions I couldn't withhold from being so obvious to the people around.
It just helped having a little bit of privacy from everyone invading the personal space of mine that involuntarily had been shared with them.

So this thought came to my mind now;
"I won't say I'm nothing, but I can say I'm not anything".
Just a thought I chose out of the crowding, aimless, thoughts strolling my head for the last month or two..
Cause it's not like I'm NO-thing but more like I'm not ANY-some significant impressing-thing.
Yeah, it's sad.

A Wake Up Call?

This is my first blog post, so I haven't got used to how this should go, but I just decided of giving it a try.
After the insistence of a dear friend that I should start my own blog, I created this and then dumped it for nearly 2 months, kind of forgot about it, or honestly haven't found something to write about and so kept postponing this first post from being.
Anyway, I won't make my intro any more boring or long ....



Today something weird happened, something that got my mind thinking and lead me here, writing this post now..
I had this weird dream, I remember it started with the fact that I knew that a friend of mine -not close- but a dear friend had passed away. The dream was so terrifying, it felt so real.
The way I recieved the news of her death, the way I remeber I was crying, crying too hard -even though we're not close- , the way I remeber the funeral, everything felt so real!
The weird thing is I rememeber so clearly the thoughts that hit my mind in the dream,
I had these questions hitting me, striking my mind and being..

"Was she ready for that?"
"What if it was one of us -me and my other friends- in her place now?"
"Am I ready for that?"
"Am I ready to meet my Allah?"
"Would she be of those who will win Al Jannah?"

She is a good person I can tell you so, but is she *good enough*?
the thoughts made the dream even more real, and terrifying..


And suddenly I woke up to my Mum calling, to my bed, to my room
it was a DREAM, it ain't real, that friend of mine is STILL alive,
all this crying and darkness has washed away the second I opened my eyes,
but the pain and anxiety still lingered!
And again it got me thinking the very same questions,..

"What if that was real?"
"Was she prepared?"
"What if I was in her place?"
"Would I have been prepared?"
"Am I prepared to meet you, Allah?"
"Am I ..?"

and the anxiety intensifies, thinking about this.. is this a wake up call?
a message Allah is sending me?, I would deffenitly say YES!
Or is this a message Allah is sending to this friend of mine, through me?
I might think Yeah maybe so too!

My mind is over and over thinking and thoughts are rambling in there I can tell you,
I have no clear answers but all I know,
I won't let this "Call" pass me by,
or atleast I'll try not to..


يا الله توفنا و أنت راض عنا
اللهم أرزقنا حسن الخاتمة