Nooj

Between my shadow and my soul

Unsettled breeze of musk, roses and grilled chicken...


Celebrating Ramadhan in a non-Muslim country has added challenges. When your colleagues come to chat holding steaming mugs of coffee and your eyes become a little glazed, when the traffic doesn't get that carb-deprivation is directly proportianl to road rage, when the doughnut lady walks past, etc. yet I believe all these challenges make our Imaan (faith) and Iradah (willpower) stronger. In isolation and through temptation we persist and soon it becomes easy to resist conformist urges and just Be.

There are downfalls though. Having to wake up for work means that you don't get to stay up as much at night and pray as much as you want to. There are so many distractions, obligations, responsibilites, courtesies we fulfill in the time when we could be engaging in deeper remembrance and contemplation.


Alhumdulillah I will be reaping the benefits of both worlds this Ramadhan as I leave soon to complete Ramadhan in Saudia. Here there is no distraction and ample opportunity for Qiyamul Layl (standing up in prayer throughout the night) as during the last ten nights they complete over a tenth of the Qur'an in Salaah every evening. I have realized that if you memorize some of the Qur'an and read the English as you are going over it, you pick up a lot of Arabic words. Even if you simply read the Arabic and then the English you begin to understand some of the gist and this helps me greatly in Taraweeh to keep my concentration
.

Anyways. Please forgive any whatsoevers. I'm going to make like a generic du'a that Allah grants all of you your wishes that He feels will be good for you, and keeps those things that are not good for you away from you. Any special spin offs can be mentioned in the Comments.

Have a peaceful, plateau-ful month and love-filled Eid
Nooj

There is a Time...

A shadow trails the Wind.
Ascending on Her momentum,
Ecstatic in Her rush,
it bides until She returns.

Fearing the genesis of
its own forceful motion, it
Hides in disappointments and
Forgets its own powerful potential

Eyelashes: Interrupted

This is an exhibitionist blog on what makes me wake up in the morning, totally coerced by Prixie :P
I have to write 5 things in no particular order:

1. Travel: I am no bint battuta :( But I awesomely want to be. The thrill of a different culture and setting, even if it's rural Scandianvia. I like places. And not visiting. Travelling is slugging over a month in the same vicinity learning what bread is in their language and looking good in their clothes.

2. A Good Ray of Light and Associated Moonbeams: The company of Angels, Taraweeh trackers, Msa kids and all species of Grass.

3. Noojettes: There are currently 8 of them out there that can lighten up my day. They are the only humans that I experience extreme Unconditional Positive Regard around. The analyst in me calls this insecure but wth as long as I have them...

4. Pomegranate and Blueberry Juice at Iftaar: Looks and tastes like Gummi Berry Juice. I love pomegranates not only because they are mentioned in the Qur'an but also because they are purple.

5. Sleeping the next evening- nafsul pleasure to the max!

You're tagged!
:P

Appetizer - Island of the Raped Woman

Maybe this poem appealed to me because I like dessert.
Or because I want to go home now.
Or because every human has an island.

Island of the Raped Women

There are no paved roads here and all of the goats
are well-behaved. Mornings, beneath thatched shelters,
we paint wide-brimmed straw hats. We paint them
inside and outside. We paint very very fast. Five
hats a morning. We paint very very slow. One hat
a week. All of our hats are beautiful and we all look
beautiful in our hats. Afternoons, we take turns:
mapping baby crabs moving in and out of sand, napping,
baking. We make orange and almond cake. This requires
essence and rind. Whipped cream. Imagination.
We make soft orange cream. This requires juice
of five oranges and juice of one lemon. (Sometimes
we substitute lime for the lemon. This is also good.)
An enamel lined pan. Four egg yolks and four ounces
of sugar. This requires careful straining, constant
stirring, gentle whisking. Watching for things not
to boil. Waiting for things to cool. We are good
at this. We pour our soft orange cream into custard
cups. We serve this with sponge cake. Before
dinner, we ruffle pink sand from one another's hair.
This feels wonderful and we pretend to find the results
interesting. We all eat in moderation and there is no
difficulty swallowing. We go to bed early. (Maybe, we
even turn off lights. Maybe, we even sleep naked. Maybe.)
We all sleep through the night. We wake eager from dreams
filled with blue things and designs for hats.
At breakfast, we make a song, chanting our litany
of so much collected blue. We do not talk of going
back to the world. We talk of something else
sweet to try with the oranges: Sponge custard.
Served with thick cream or perhaps with raspberry sauce.
We paint hats. We paint hats.

By Frances Driscoll- Rape Survivor