Preparing myself for Umra

 15^th May 2025

    Looking back on the week leading up to Umra, it had been so packed with things happening, I had really not had the time to prepare my mind and my self for what was ahead. Many a times I had thought about being in the precinct of the Kaaba – a guest of Allah swt. And now when it had become an immediate I did not seem to be prepared enough. I decided that I must make some life changing decisions, set myself some goals that I could work towards. And here is is what I thought. 

    

    Attitude of Gratitude. 

I decided that I would actively endeavour to look at life in a constructive way. I would change my perspective on things. Step out of the moment and look at issues from different angles. Become a Watcher observing from the outside, and then see how I can benefit. How I can turn things to my advantage, making challenges an opportunity to grow close to Allah. 

 I decided that I must recognise the greater good in everything that unfolds in my life’s journey. I will not allow situations and people to weigh me down. Every trial and hardship will, IA, be a route to grow in my mind. I will stop being resentful, accept situations for what they are and see how to use them to bring out the best in myself. In essence, be grateful at all times.

    

    Other-focused life

The second thing that I thought of will be to lead a more other-centred life. Think of other’s before I think of myself. Take joy in giving joy – a bit of a paradox that, but the truth, nevertheless. I have surely learnt that there is greater joy in giving than in taking. I am grateful for that lesson. I could have ended my life without learning that. I have also learnt that when you stop thinking about your own needs all the time, you stop worrying too. Life becomes far more fulfilling and peaceful. People are happy in your company and look forward to seeing you. 

    

    Finally, never forget the oppressed. 

I have promised myself that I will be active in remembering them, speak up for justice and promote their cause. I know I don’t do enough, and I am disappointed with myself. IA, I am working on it, and praying that Allah swt inspires me. 

Allah Listens

     Little miracles keep unfolding in our lives every day and all the time, but we pass them by as coincidences, if not matters of simple chance, until they are lost in the folds of time’s fabric. They are buried under new layers of experiences, challenges, and trials, and they become a memory, or worse, are forgotten.

    Sana was here the other day, and she brought some cards on which to write little anecdotes from our Umra. And that made me think – actually, our lives are so full of moments when Allah is listening to us and answering our prayers, but, just like those little miracles, we overlook their fulfilments as fluke incidents that ‘just happened’. That is such an ungrateful thing to do.

    After my magrib today, I thought I should write down all the Mercies of Allah (swt) that surround me every day. To be fair, that is arrogant of me to even think that I can recognise and list ALL His Mercies – I couldn’t if I lived to be thousand! Let me, however, write about events in my life that have humbled me and filled my heart with gratitude    

    So, this Umra, was as sudden as it was unexpected. Mohammad and Yasmin had booked themselves for their Umra – Yasmin had been wishing it for the past couple of years and Allah had heard her. I was so happy for them. An Umra can be life changing experience – and my duas for them to grow in imaan, grow in closeness to Allah were being answered. I was so grateful to Allah. My every prayer had been filled with hope that Mohammad would begin to prayer regularly, turn to Allah for all his needs, that the love of Allah would become central to his life. Now this visit was an answer to my prayer.   

    Mo and Yasmin were both very excited. There was this buzz in the air – preparations and conversations on how things were going work out. Preparing for Nadia and all the bits and bobs that needed to be packed and all the contingencies to look out for… and my heart suddenly wished I could go too. And I told myself it was childish of me to wish for something like that. It was going to be their time together and I was not going to grudge them that. I told myself it was selfish and greedy of me to want another Umra -I had already done my Umra and my Haj – I did not need to hanker after going once again. 

    Palestine was another thing on my mind. With the terrible atrocities being committed and the hardships they were undergoing I felt I did not have the right to indulge myself spend so much money and go travelling when the money could have been better spent donating to more deserving causes. 

    And then Syed called. 

    There was a trip during the Easter break to Mecca and Medina! And the cost was going to be reasonable on a no frill airline! Allah had heard me – I was thrilled. Six days of stay – leaving on the 15^th of April and returning on the 22^nd. The timing was perfect. Allah had heard me wish and had responded by granting me the opportunity! Subhanallah! 

    The truth is that Allah hears us all - all of the time and, and He is responding to our duas - all of the time. It is we, with our limited understanding and awareness, who are unable to recognise His response. You see, His response to our dua may not be exactly what we are asking for, because what we are asking for may be to our disadvantage. He will do for us what is best for us. Sometimes, His response to our dua may be harsh and cause pain, but who knows – that very pain may be our salvation. Therefore, it is up to us to stop, think and acknowledge that he has heard and has responded. And, be at peace with His decision – know that it is the best one.

Human Rights

 Bismillahir Rahman nir Raheem

Human Rights - the rights of the sole intellectual species that inhabit this planet - are in jeopardy today. Unabashed racism, and selfish acquisition of land and resources are new normals. In this age of material progress and moral regression, the age of unashamed and unfair exploitation of the vulnerable by those who hold the clout and bullet, the farce being enacted in the name of ‘human rights’ is diabolically deceptive.

An examination of the western world social structure based on capitalism shows that the universal conscience is dead and economies are driven by greed. Exploitation, loss and suffering of ‘others’ are not the concerns of power hungry governments ready to squeeze them dry so long as they themselves can benefit. 

The question now is: why has the human being fallen so low that he is worse than a beast? 

You don’t have to look too far to find an answer. The answer lies in the mind frame of those who have compiled the ‘Universal’ Human Rights in the West. A quick browse through them will show that in all of these rights - the individual is at the centre. Every individual and every community is then intent on protecting its own interests. This attitude is promoted from a very young age and is an essential part of the education system. The right to choose what one wants for oneself is of paramount importance. This is an ‘individual’ centred structure, where everyone is ‘looking out for themselves’ in the words of JB Priestley. O yes, we talk about ‘human rights’: our right to speech, our right to privacy or our right to what ever it is we want. But in all these discussions, it is the individual who it at the centre. This feeds the human ego, and makes us feel good because we feel important. Our minds are therefore trained to expected the world to give us ‘our rights’ and our feathers are ruffled if anyone encroaches into our ‘our space’. This ‘self interest’ is individual at its inception but becomes a collective ideology of groups of people. All the people ‘inside’ the group become the beneficiaries - the privileged ones.

This structure, however, opposed to being beneficial, is actually detrimental to our well being. It isolates us and this isolation is the root cause of many mental illnesses the society seems to experience today. The individual is focused on seeking satisfaction from promoting and pampering the ‘self’. Experience tells us that the ‘self’ is never satisfied. It always wants something more, something different … and dissatisfaction sets in. The mind becomes ‘sick’ with a number of psychological imbalances. We then further indulge the ‘self’ and assign big, important sounding names to these sicknesses of the mind. We turn to science for solutions and science turns to medicine and medicine offers  drugs to alleviate the symptoms and give temporary respite. But the sickness, remains. Science can find no cures. 

This approach cannot succeed. It is bound to fail because we are trying to find a physical solution to a psychological problem. 

What we need is a perspective shift.

This perspective shift is a unique view on a social structure offered by Islamic thought. In Islam, the individual is not at the centre. Yes, Islam gives rights and ordains responsibilities to every individual but the angle of observation is different: instead of being ‘individual centred’, it is ‘other centred’.

The fulcrum is still the individual but he/she is now looking outwards. Now, every individual thinks of the rights others have over him/her. For example parents rights over him/her, or neighbour’s right over him/her, or children’s rights over him/her and so on. Rights become responsibilities as well, because now, there are expectations. As a son or daughter, I must fulfil the rights my parents have over me. As a wife/husband, I must fulfil the right my spouse has over me. 

This approach, immediately provides a solution to all the problems in society. Automatically we are more inclusive, more tolerant, more respectful, and consequently, more happy and fulfilled. 

Her First Hunt

Black and grey feathers were littered around

Broken glass, china-flakes embellished the ground

The toolbox lay open, it’s content all scattered 

Old vases tipped over, gift-wrapping all tattered.

 

It looked like a battle had raged through the night 

And its results were apparent in the morning light 

I gazed in sheer horror that grew by the minute 

At the chaos and destruction. Who could have done it?

 

Realisation flashed then, like a lightning bolt

Kitkat! The culprit! SHE was the one at fault!

For amidst assorted debris of this and of that  

Lay the lifeless victim of the cheeky cat! 

 

The poor little birdie was tousled and small

Quite stiff and all mussed up, but definitely whole. 

Soft pawed and silent, the felon strolled in 

“Mine!” averred smugly, eyes brazen green.

 

We confronted each other, the miscreant and I

Eyes locked. Mine: annoyed; hers: proud, satisfied.

“Where’s the honour? (they questioned) Where’s the fame?

The kudos? The applause? On my very first game?”

 

Let’s pause here, for a moment to truly see 

Who the boss is, where score stands, between her and me.

Well, this house – it’s mine, and I am the mistress - for sure 

But, when it comes to the sunroom, she can show me the door!

 

For she owns all it corners, its nooks, all its spaces 

The shelves, old shoe boxes: are courses for races  

There’s her snug and her cushion, her private litter tray 

The bowl for her goodies, her scratch post… the array.

 

So here we were stood, both intractable and mulish 

I, not pleased at the mess in the room; she confusedish. 

The atmosphere was tense, a rant roared in my head

As I reined-in in vexation, leaving grim words unsaid.

 

Then, the wily missy made her move: apologetic - perhaps cajoling?

Sidling up silently, curling, soft around my legs, beguiling... 

And that’s it.

I had melted - like ice cream on a warm tongue

All anger gone - in a blink,

Like the fizz out off a drink!

 

(And yes, I did spend a good part of that day tidying the sun room!)

The Ocean

 Ocean, you’re black; ocean, you’re blue 

You choose garments of many a hue

Ocean, you’re grey; ocean, you’re  green

Moody? Playful? Wild? Or Mean? 

Lovingly gentle, you can lap at the shores 

Or rage and storm with deafening roars

You can let mighty cruisers sail without sinking 

Or swallow them whole - in an eye’s blinking

Ocean, o ocean how soft is your touch

So silky so smooth so extravagantly plush 

Yet sharp as a knife, huge caverns you carve

And bite off big boulders - you will not starve!

Deep are your dungeons, and dark are your ways

Mysterious and awesome are your hidden pathways

Currents are your highways for migrating denizens 

Hurtling along in search of new tenements 

 

Busy are your nooks and filled are your crannies 

With mums, and dads and siblings and grannies

Of creature quite bright and of creatures quite pale

As large as a whale or as small as a snail

Treasures you hide, no one knows what lies 

In the folds of your gut, in the rise  of your tides

Abundance of life forms survive in your waters 

You are their world, you’re all that matters.

O ocean, great ocean you are the key 

To the evolution of life, to the making of me.

You source the clouds, you bring the rain

On mountains, deserts, woodlands and plains. 

Sleepy and lazy, you are almost benign 

But alert: God’s agent, with a keen watchful eye

Witnessing man’s mad and mean machinations 

You can turn in a flash, demand reparation

A reminder that all arrogance must fall

A tsunami, you rise and devour it all.

Then roll on: it’s business as usual for you

While abased and humbled, man starts life anew.

The River

 

I - an ancient river - am old and wise

On-the-go always, in the hills I rise.

My journey is long, as I tumble down hills

And into the oceans my water spills.

 

When dark clouds gather and it rains

I crawl over banks to flood my plains.

I bless all the fields with mineral-rich soil,

So you can grow grain, without any toil. 

 

Having hurried down mountains, I stop to breathe

Meandering and lazy as slow as I please.

I sprawl out and flatten, reflecting the sky

The clouds and birds as they fly in the high.

 

The fishermen throw in their nets to catch

Fish I am rich in, batch after batch.

Deep in my belly the brave divers find

Pink and white pearls of every kind.

 

I - an ancient river - I am rich

I have plenty of wealth and I like to give.

Water I give, and fresh fish to eat,

I let you ride me: boat, canoe – fleet!

 

But, you! O human, you! What have you done?

You’ve used me and trashed me, spoilt all the fun.

You have taken my joy, now I am filthy and grey,

Head low, I flow slow, with nothing to say.

Afshan Ali

The Summer of 2019 - Day 2

We were up ripe and early. It had been a cold night with the wind making its own music on the the fragile plastic tent right up to the early hours. We did not brave the weather to see the sun rise, although it was a tempting prospect. As the day grew though, and it became warmer, we emerged, showered and breakfasted. 

Mohammad slept on though :) while we chilled. 

 


It was a lovely morning – all the discomfort of the night before were forgotten. I settled down to read my book – something I haven’t done in years, preferring to listen and watch most of the time.
Later, with breakfast done, Mo browsed, I read, and Insh and Mahdi went of on a trek - equipped with a bucket and a net - in search of a brook to study the bugs that lived in the water. 

After the Prophet is an engrossing read - giving an interesting insight into how Islamic History appears from the outside - to a relatively unbiased writer - trying to understand what led to the unfolding of events that followed the death of the prophet. 

Mahdi is a tireless walker - he can go on and on, and now he was in his element  - vigorous and energetic, in wellies, ready for any adventure that came his way. 
The gentle breeze, the silence not disrupted by city noises, and the sun stealing through the clouds to warming my skin every now and then - i spent some of my most idyllic moments. 
Before we left the camp - Mahdi had some Mamu time. :)

 

We left Upper Hurst Farm - in search of the elusive Ice-cream shop in Tagg Lane - the makers of the creamiest, most satisfyingly flavoursome ice cream ever. What makes a visit to this ice-cream parlour more exciting is that it is in the middle of no where. Surrounded by fields and grasslands in all directions - the Tagg Lane farm is a lone building, ordinary and small, something that you can drive by without even noticing it, unless, of course you are actually looking for it. And we  - we always have our eyes peeled for it. 
Surprisingly, Tagg Lane Ice-cream is quite popular, especially at this time of the year - particularly with bikers; and inevitably we meet a bunch of motor bike enthusiasts taking a break - ice-creaming here. The gleaming silver and black motor bikes and their riders in professional gear and helmets, lent an exciting ambience to the small parlour. Mahdi went off with Mamu to get his ice cream.