Lost in Focus

 
I have made tea for my parents, set out the table for them to have their dinner-cum-tea. I have kissed my three little sisters and both my parents goodnight and retired into my room… my little heaven, my little sanctuary.

Sitting up in my bed with my laptop in my lap, once again I try to write, like I have tried many times before tonight.

Sometimes I would stare at a blank page, trying to figure out what to write, and shut everything away after a while as nothing would come to me. Sometimes I would write a paragraph or two and again keep it away. Sometimes I would just cry and again keep it away.

It is not that I have nothing to write about. It’s quite the opposite in fact, there is just so much that I get overwhelmed. I know not where to start from.

As I think of how to write something to lessen the burden in my heart, I gaze around my room and feel grateful to Allah for the little sanctuary I have. The dim light from my boat-shaped lamp across the room from my bed has my room dimly lit. The near triangular shaped table with my desktop computer is in the corner of the room right in front of me, next to it is the bamboo bookshelf where I have kept the magazines from FAST, some books on general knowledge and geography, some novels, some papers and a few ornaments – the candle which Maliha gave me in the second semester at FAST on my birthday, the candle my sister gave me once on a birthday, the small jewellery box that Salma gave me on her return from her honeymoon trip from Malaysia, a multi-colored candle that Sana gave me when she met me months after we were finished with IBA and the best of them all…a small oval face with an innocent, beautiful smile carved and painted across it – a present on one of my birthdays from my dearest, closest, most precious friend whom I beg Allah never ever to take away from me. Next to the bamboo bookshelf is my wardrobe. These three items cover the breadth of my room at one side. Along one side of the length of my room is another bookshelf with all my research books and cassettes – The Quran, ten volumes of Tafsir Ibn-e-Kasir, the summaried Sahi Bukhari, the three volumes of books on learning Quranic Arabic, the full set of 16 CDs containing the complete Taleem-ul-Quran course conducted by Dr. Farhat Hashmi in 2002-2003, a complete set of 30 cassettes containing recitation of the complete Quran, a cassette player and some booklets on various duas. Above this bookshelf hangs the oil pastels painting that I painted when I was in class eight.  I had made this painting for a competition. It is all made in shades of blue with a few touches of white and yellow depicting a cottage in a moonlit night under the mountains, next to a lake and a big tree. Although it didn’t win anything, it came back nicely framed, ready to be hung. Beside this bookshelf is the corner table with the boat-shaped lamp. Add to it my bed, the bedside table, the blue carpet with the brown and mink rug as a center carpet piece and the two gray embroidered floor cushions and you have a complete picture of my simple, little sanctuary.

And again… I seem to be failing at trying to write something meaningful.

In fact… definitely, I have failed to write again!

 
Date: 5th May, 2009 (10:00 PM GMT +2, Istanbul, Turkey)
 
‘I love you, Allah!’

That came straight from my heart as I went down into prostration during my Isha salaat in the masjid reserved for females here in the international waiting lounge of Ataturk Airport. A Turkish female was praying beside me, on the right, making her Allahu-akbars audible enough to me. A black female, either African or Arabian draped in a black abaya was lying down on a janamaz near the wall on my right with her head on her hand-carry, reciting the Quran. Another Turkish female had entered with me, she was praying somewhere behind me. I felt in harmony. I think that’s the force of Islam that I felt… no matter where you may go in the world… you will find worshippers of Allah, all worshipping Him in the same manner.

I really liked the Masjid here in the airport. It has its ablution area right outside, within the same area but before the prayer area begins - clean, with tissues and dryer and mirror. It has nice wooden shelves in the door of the prayer area for people to put their shoes and slippers in. It has skirts and dupattas that females wearing jeans or skirts etc. can use to wear over their clothing to fully cover themselves up. Whether they should or should not be wearing that kind of clothing outside the masjid in their daily lives is another topic, but what I felt was the respect they had for the place, for the call to prayer, for their meeting with Allah.

I wish Muslims would realize the harmony of this binding force called Islam and practice it in their daily lives instead of falling apart and being blinded in the prejudice of so many nationalities, ethnicities and communities.