Month: September 2018

It feels like yesterday

/ TheAnywayGirl / Leave a comment
Grief

Courtesy: Gerard Van Den Berg(shutterstock), theconversation.com (2017)

It’s been 2 years, and I honestly cannot believe that we’re here. In one piece, mostly. There’s not a day that passes of course without thinking of him, and I have consciously made it a point to not ever forget. Everything, including my black scarf drenched in his musk – of course I didn’t have it washed for days! Errr weeks? Okay, it was months – I take my weird seriously. And even then, if I close my eyes and breathe deeply, the smell of it engulfs me.  And my regret is that they didn’t allow me enough time, and space, to give him enough kisses. But there will never be enough kisses for my father.

One of the most interesting things about losing a loved one is that in its immediate aftermath, everything that you once thought was important quickly loses meaning. And the impermanence of everything around you, including you, comes into sharp focus. And you gain a deeper understanding and appreciation of Allah’s immense power and mercy. That He could take, in an instant, someone you’ve lived your whole life seeing around you. And even after this most brutal of reminders, He still allows us to run around like heedless children, creating mischief, hurting people and amassing wealth, without consequence. That He gives us the opportunity, time and time again, to come back. And I honestly cannot fathom the breadth of benevolence required for that. That He created me, and I belong to him, but He still allows me this much latitude to make mistakes only to run back to Him. Again. And again. And again. I’m stupefied.

It’s not simply the fact that the life of this world is transient, it’s that trouble and grief seems to be its by line. It’s always one day I’m laughing, and the next I’m in deep despair. And it takes immense faith, which I lack, to understand that this is how my Lord has decreed it, a place of trials and tests to sift through the best amongst us, a bridge to the Hereafter. That even the best of creations, the Prophets, tasted grief. And calamities upon calamities. What makes me think that I’d be spared?

Sabr, iman and taqwa, I need this in spades. To think good of my creator, the Lord of the Worlds, to trust in His decree, to delegate all my affairs to him and to always turn to Him when faced with trials. To rely on Him with utmost conviction. To hold Him above all others in my heart. And to detach myself from this world which is a mirage.

But I have been extremely fortunate. My Lord has provided me comfort upon comfort. “So do not lose heart, and do not fall into despair; for you must gain mastery if you are true in faith” (Quran 3:139). We will surely test you with a measure of fear and hunger and a loss of wealth, lives, and fruits;  but give glad tidings to As‑Saabiroon (the patient ones). Who, when afflicted with calamity, say: ‘Truly, to Allah we belong and truly, to Him we shall return.’ They are those on whom are the Salawaat (i.e. who are blessed and will be forgiven) from their Lord, and (they are those who) receive His Mercy, and it is they who are the guided ones.” (Quran 2: 155-157) “How wonderful is the case of a believer; there is good for him in everything and this applies only to a believer. If prosperity attends him, he expresses gratitude to Allah and that is good for him; and if adversity befalls him, he endures it patiently and that is better for him.” (The Prophet, pbuh-Muslim)

I would be lying if I said that I never allowed despair to come into my heart. Of course it did, but I know that it has a prescribed duration. And it is in how we spin it that it then becomes bearable. Someone once told me that they grieved by trying to emulate their loved one’s spirit. And I thought this was genius. To be up before the break of dawn, to pray isha upon its adhan. To read Quran every day. Hajj or umrah every year, as long as I can afford it. Paying my bills on time. Staying away from debt, speaking your truth no matter whom, where, what. Informing people, kindly, once they’ve messed up. Forgiving wrongs done upon me. Taking care of my relatives. Staying away from that which does not benefit me.  Keeping good companions. Being on wudhu. And sadaqa, sadaqa, sadaqa.

It all sounds doable until you attempt it, and you recognize the purity of discipline  needed to sustain such a lifestyle. But I want to, desperately crave to do this, against my selfish baser nature. My Lord, please make it easy for me. Every minute, every day, year upon year.

As for my dearest, my Lord, I beg of you, please provide him with the most lavish of comforts. In the most peaceful of spaces. Indelible in my mind is our last conversation, his beautiful face, his eternal repose and a prayer for a reunion in the highest levels of al firdaus al’ala. How can it be 2 years then, when it still feels just like yesterday?

Deliverance

/ TheAnywayGirl / Leave a comment
Gettyimages 2018

Courtesy: iStock by Gettyimages (2018)

It’s an indescribable feeling. It’s to see the edges of the ocean, unhindered. To not have to peep behind a tall world, something I’ve had to get used to in life. But it’s more than that. It’s to remove the shackles of restraint off my mind. To see myself for whom I really am. What I have allowed in, what I have done, and what I’m capable of. The good, the great, the absolutely beautiful, and the unpleasant that I can no longer disassociate from. There were more than a few black spots, a few curves. For the most part though, we’ve been on that wire. Balancing as best as we knew how, never knowing that we were handicapped with a visor. And it’s as if someone has removed it now and I can look ahead with crisp clarity at everything around me, and see blinding light, hope, and happiness.

As a Cushitic woman, as a Black woman, as a Muslim woman, I cannot tally the number of times someone has told me to be less than. To lower my voice, to slow down my walk. To be more feminine. To be more accommodating. To smile more. To chill. The number of times I have been told that whatever I do, my place is behind a more capable man. But I can count the number of times they have been. Capable, that is, and reliable. And they get away with it, every time. That will never be you, you have no margin for error, don’t you know? And so I would smile at this advice delivered oh so politely, with evident concern. And laugh in the privacy of my own company. But then it becomes pervasive, and it starts getting to you. It gets to your psyche, and your spirit. And you find yourself doing things that subconsciously affirms this lunacy of thinking.

Your mind, just like your body, needs regular watering. With positive vibes, with attainable goals, with affirmation, and positive people. It needs your care. And regular attention. My darlings, please take care of your minds. The value of a healthy mind is priceless. Release those fetters my loves, you wouldn’t imagine the life that awaits you once you do. But you must make that one step forward towards deliverance, no one can do it for you. Towards freedom. You wouldn’t imagine the endless sphere of that horizon. It’s a beautiful struggle, a struggle coated with hope and oiled by love. A love of self, inferred through honest self reflection. And for me, a craving of opportunity. A firm belief that all my dreams are achievable, and that they do come true after all. With grit.

My darlings, the next time someone tells you to dim your light so that a man can shine in your presence, tell them to shut up and work on themselves. You are all that, and more. I dare you to let your mind believe it. Your soul is but a slave to it. So do not be enslaved to believe that you are less than anyone. And that you need to temper your demands to allow others to fit in with you. You are the universe wrapped in splendour. It’s not you, you are everything.

And I hope you can promise me this – that you will never take your mind, and all it entails, for granted. It is your compass in this turbulent world. And your tool to forge forward, either positively or repressively. And there’s a world of difference in those two journeys, no matter the outcome. So commit to place those manacles under a microscope, and remove them one painful click at a time. It is slow, it is distressing beyond belief. But I promise you it’s worth it. This calm, the peace of mind, it’s all worth it. To visualize my unhindered progress hereon? How could I put a price to this?

It’s okay to look back at that version of you, to laugh and cry at her foibles. At her slips, and her imperfections. But she belongs in the past. Laugh with her, cry with her, but tell her to put her chin up. It gets better. The jagged edges of those rocks still abound, but we’re not as naive, we’ve built stamina by this point.  It was okay my love, she made us who we are now. She owes us no apologies, we’re steel tempered now.

It’s okay to be a man, whatever that means. And the next time anyone tells you this, I give you permission to tell them to put a sock in it. No one, no one, has the right to tell you to change who you are. To dilute your essence to make them comfortable. You do not owe anyone comfort, at the expense of you. Why should you? You are beautiful beyond belief. But most importantly, you are you, there’s no one else like you, there can only be one of you. So be you, it is enough.