Month: June 2018

A fork in the road

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Purgatori

Courtesy: Pinterest.com/Purgatori (2018)

I can’t believe it’s been 6 months already?! Who would have thought I’d still be alive. Not just alive, but thrive at the unconventionality of what constitutes my life these days. And how fast these months have fled? It’s been messy, sometimes unplanned, the worst, ugh…perfection eludes me. There have been way more uncomfortable moments that I never knew I had the courage to take up – it seems like half of these past 6 months, I dissemble, a majority of these months I have lived outside my comfort zone. It has been  exhilarating, I must admit. And my old friend, boring, well, I don’t know when she will ever come back into fashion.

Entrepreneurship embodies everything that I never knew I wanted out of my career – to be independent, illimitable, lawless. Has it been though? If I’m honest, I have been brought back down to earth more times than I would care to admit, that comfort zone eludes me. And my favourite pose when I’m working these days is to hold my chin in one hand, waiting for that disruption to my day, because I have learnt that that is the one constant I can count on in my life now.

It is against this turmoil that a recent offer to merge, which ordinarily I would never consider, became extremely tempting. And I’m appalled that my first thought of it, was hurray, freedom. You see, jumping at this opportunity would be the ultimate betrayal of everything that I believe in. Who else would take up these ideals, and this dream? Where else would we have an all-women led firm? Well, at least one with me in it. And yet, if I rejected it, I’d pass up a potential buffer with my nemesis – clients, people, my emotional battery depleter.  How could I carry on doing this when my fantasy beckons?

And that familiar annoying voice within me reminds me of everything that I hold dear, of that road most rarely taken I have always dreamt of traversing, and what difference it has made for travellers who’ve trodden down its trails. But it will take me years to get to my boring, am I prepared to suffer that much, any longer? And what am I suffering for? Is this my purpose in this world? The pursuit of independence, financial security and, gasp, stature, eminence, vanity? Distinction in the dearth of my kind? Is this what I seek? And yet, another voice interrupts, what of those little girls I have always wanted to mentor, to whom I wish to serve as a presence, if not a model, in this field, to whom I wish to provide a comfort zone, to clear the vines on these tracks so they don’t have to. What about them?

Logic and pragmatism rules me. It reminds me to keep my goals in view- success, abbreviated, but within my range now, diminished strain, don’t I want that? It entreats me to be sensible, to keep the stars in sight, victory at the clasp of my hands, that the means matter little when the goals are attained. Isn’t that what I believe in? Winners or Losers, and no in-betweens? Behold my dilemma, a battle between the rational and the idealist in me.

It is painful to decline the offer before me, it is even more painful when fog surrounds these footpaths. But I cannot betray myself. After all is said and done, I never want to look back at a life where I know that I took the easy way out. I want it said that I took the untravelled road, those muddy unpleasant trails, and I may or may not succeed, but I perished trying my damnest to make things work out. And it won’t be a pretty story, but at least it won’t be an ordinary one. It has made all the difference in others. And I hope that I will join them in those hallowed hallways someday. And if I don’t, you know what, I gave it my best shot.

My loves, only God knows where this road leads. And if I don’t get to that promised land, I hope my mistakes shine a light for whoever is behind me to keep off those treacherous vines that doomed me. And wherever it is I get to reach, I hope I never ever think that that is all there is to this. That my toils count for nothing. It’s so easy to forget to enjoy this journey. To take a time-out and look at the bigger picture when things don’t go according to plan. And I have to write it down, growl it out every morning, beg with all my being that it stays at the cortex of my mind. That my hereafter far transcends this world, and every goal, path, dream of mine must align to this. And my journey must reflect this reality. To do good, no matter what, where, whom. That I never forget that all this is evanescent and fleeting. And the fact that I gave it my very best should be enough for me.

The least traversed path is my path, it is the path of the true traveller in this world. That this is what should be familiar to me. This is my comfort zone, the discomfort. No matter the censure of this entire world, we have to remember that a life far much bigger than this awaits us all. I hope I never forget that my loves – my Lord, please help me never to forget it. As to those forks in my road, there is no choice is there really, but to take them all.

An abiding change

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Pluralism.org

Eid Prayers at the Haram, Courtesy: Pluralism.org (2017)

Another Eid. An amazing day. Family. Friends. Laughter. Lots of food. Seeing each other again after an entire year. House hopping. Just the right combination of people to remind you to loosen up and stop taking life so seriously.

Eid for me is a time of celebration, that which follows after refrain, refrain from myself, my desires, refrain from this world. It’s a celebration of my devotion and submission to the Lord of the Worlds. And a remembrance of the spiritual motivation behind one of the major acts of worship and obedience to the Eternal Lord, Ramadhan. And my ultimate desire therein – taubah from The Responding One.

Eid for me is reciting takbeer out loud, putting on the Makkah Channel from the sunset of Eid, listening to the imams of the Haram magnifying Allah. It’s one of the few times I attend salah in congregation, the few times I love being around hoards of people. The thought that we are all there for one thing, to knock on that gate of repentance, beseeching The One to accept our fasts, to forgive us and admit us to the gardens of delight without account, is entrancing beyond belief. Praise. Joy. Relief. Hope. Happiness. This!

But I must admit that it all sounds hollow sometimes – when I remember my dearest, alone in a box beneath this world, alone but for Allah, I shudder. How could I ever forget Eid with my sire. His voice, his adhan at dawn to wake us up, his conversation. His recitation. I’d be lying if I said things have ever been the same since he left. Eid at home was all about my beloved father. His reminders to hurry up so we wouldn’t be late for salah. His conversations with wayya, hilarious. The ribbing, the critique, the wonder, the comfort. Al Jazeera always on. Ithijaahil Maaqis with Faisal Al-Qassim. It would almost always lead to one guest leaving with insults, or violence, throwing water bottles at each other. He would be transfixed, and in raptures at it all. And it would end with a call to wayya, to further analyse this analysis of the opposing viewpoints. Reading him his Friday bulletin. Correcting his grammar homework. Cutting his toe nails. Getting him warm water for wudhu. Standing behind him as he recited his favourite ayah, salah after salah :

“Establish prayer at the decline of the sun [from its meridian] until the darkness of the night and [also] the Qur’an of dawn. Indeed, the recitation of dawn is ever witnessed. And from [part of] the night, pray with it as additional [worship] for you; it is expected that your Lord will resurrect you to a praised station. And say, ‘My Lord, cause me to enter a sound entrance and to exit a sound exit and grant me from Yourself a supporting authority.’ And say, ‘Truth has come, and falsehood has departed. Indeed is falsehood, [by nature], ever bound to depart.’ And We send down of the Qur’an that which is healing and mercy for the believers, but it does not increase the wrongdoers except in loss. And when We bestow favor upon the disbeliever, he turns away and distances himself; and when evil touches him, he is ever despairing. Say, ‘Each works according to his manner, but your Lord is most knowing of who is best guided in way.’And they ask you, [O Muhammad], about the soul. Say, ‘The soul is of the affair of my Lord. And mankind have not been given of knowledge except a little.’ (Quran 17:78-85)

I would never get tired of hearing it. And it will never be the same, no matter whose beautiful voice – no one would ever do it like him. So Eid is bittersweet for me now. It’s to rejoice at the honour of having lived through this most blessed month, and to be sad at its departure. To delight at this congregation of goodness, and a reunion of our loved ones, and to despair at the departed amongst our ranks. But to hope, to anticipate and take comfort in the transience of this separation. Soon enough, my dearest, soon enough we’ll join you. In bliss, my Lord, in bliss inshaallah.