The End To All Things

I’ve moved to this blog.

http://siraatullah.wordpress.com

Thank You

I’m glad it was understandable from your point of view.

Others would have probably ran like hell.

But you understood.

It’s not so much the pain as it is the eagerness. The drive that pushes me to do things, to write these words, to say things better left unsaid.

Continuously stabbed, time and time again because of this feeling.

Why do I do it? Why persist? I don’t know.

Just the lack of a need that has gone too long unfulfilled.

A need which was once easy to obtain, now almost utterly impossible.

Why?

Why do I try to justify it? Is there something wrong with me?

Is there something I’m missing?

I’ve tried endlessly, there’s no alternative. Nothing I can replace the longing with.

Nothing matches the feeling.

What can one do?

After all the years in darkness, all the things I still regret.

And then suddenly, a change. Something inside that longed for change. For purpose.

In order to fulfill the change, everything was let go.

Social life, pictures, videos, close friends, and the memories with special people.

I erased my identity.

Everything I held close, obliterated for this one purpose. An entire persona sacrificed for returning to the Truth.

But little did I know that when everything is obliterated, things must come as replacements.

Friends changed, environments changed. Another world laid itself upon my feet.

But there was no replacement for the empty heart.

Wandering aimlessly, not knowing what to do, memories from my former life started to haunt me.

The idea of desolation became unbearable.

And then, somehow, the heart felt alive again. For what specific reason, I still do not know.

Just a feeling. Something that drew me towards your soul.

And the feeling became words, and words became talk, and talk became action.

Until it became clear that I was blatantly blinded by emotion.

And another knife was pierced into the already empty heart.

Not as a wound, but as a lesson.

How I wish I could start over, to not have stepped in so deep.

To not have made it uncomfortable.

It is I who should be apologizing. An intrusion into the midst of your peaceful life.

Forgive me for trespassing. Forgive me for taking up head space.

I should have known the first stride would lead to many more.

It is entirely my fault, and you should not feel any sort of pity for me.

The perpetrator was an empty heart looking for rejuvenation.

And it did indeed find that feeling it had searched for so long once more.

Though it was short-lived, but no matter. I only wish things would go back to the way they were before, void of feelings.

Don’t worry, I understand. All the hope is gone now. I feel no pain or sense of hurt, it was expected to happen this way.

It’s too bad you will never read this. I wish you knew that it was as strange for me as it was for you.

And whatever befalls the believer is what is best for him.

Thank you for understanding. Thank you for allowing me to breathe again.

May Allah bless the one who attains you.

Denver

So there’s no internet here. I can only use this connection for a certain amount of time.

The things I saw yesterday night were saddening.

We came to Denver because my grandmother, my father’s mother, had a stroke.

If you don’t know much about strokes, I’ll sum it up for you. A stroke can affect either the left side of your brain or your right side, it damages the brain.

I forgot the specifics, but if it hits one of the sides of your brain, you die, because that side controls your heart and vital organs.

If it hits the other side, a whole part of your body is paralyzed for a while, and you have to go through rehab and therapy to fix yoruself back up.

That is what happened to my grandmother.

She’s sitting there, in the hospital, like a vegetable.

She can’t express feelings, or even talk. To make things worse, she doesn’t even know english.

All she can do is look around. I think she can hear as well.

When I first came in and looked at her I smiled, and her eyes started tearing up.

What can you do in that situation? She’s been there for at least a month and a half, just lying there, alone.

SubhanAllah it’s such a reality check. The fact that we’re all going back alone.

All she’s left with now are her thoughts.

Insha’Allah I’m going to put this current story I’m writing off to the side and start a new one.

Some of it will be based on actual events and some won’t, but I think this will be a lot better for reality to hit people rather than a jinn story.

Please make dua for my grandmother.

Preclarus

Im gonna buy this place and see it go
Stand here beside me and watch the orange glow
Some will laugh and some just sit and cry
But you just sit down there and you wonder why

So Im gonna buy a gun and start a war
If you can tell me something worth fighting for
Im gonna buy this place, thats what I said
Blame it upon a rush of blood to the head

Honey, all the changes you’re starting to make
See me crumble and fall on my face
And I know the mistakes that I made
See it all disappear without a trace

And they call as they beckon you on
They said start as you mean to go on
As you mean to go on
As you mean to go on

So meet me by the bridge, or meet me by the lane
When am I going to see, that pretty face again?
Meet me on the road, meet me where I said
Blame it all upon a rush of blood to the head

Postremo

Well one of my duas weren’t accepted.

I poured olive oil into the pot and put the stove on high. Bad idea.

The olive oil started popping like crazy. I thought it was just normal, but soon I would learn my lesson.

Specks of olive oil started to shoot at me from the pot. It was like getting shot repeatedly by little men.

Repeated screams of “AH!” and “OW!” were among my many lines during the attack.

Finally, I was able to reach the temperature knob of doom and turn it down to low.

But yes, what an epic journey it was.

Alhamdulillah my chicken rocked.

In other news, looks like I won’t be able to go to MAS, my favorite event of all time this year. I’ll be in Denver once again in the cold, freezing snow, for a week. At least I get to snowboard.

Maybe I’ll get to come by on Saturday but I doubt that.

I’ll just have to get ready for TDC this year, especially since it’s the last one.

Or is it?

Insha’Allah my entire family is gonna be going, and I think my sister will volunteer with me as well.

Alhamdulillah, I’m glad the semester is coming to an end, can’t wait till spring.

Although all those online classes do seem like too much, I think it’ll be better in the end.

To be honest, I’ve been getting kind of tired of UH.

The drive itself is ridiculous, and then the gas on top of that.

MSA isn’t doing much anymore either, especially for the brothers. All we have is Thursday night sports and… that’s it?

There aren’t any actual halaqas, at all. The most we get is the Friday halaqas and that’s it, and alhamdulillah Ghulam does a great job.

MSA should really be doing more. All we do is one or two big events, and then that’s it. Everything after those two events are just dawah efforts or have something to do with the dawah table.

Kinda worthless when I think about it. What is the purpose of MSA then?

We don’t really invite other people to MSA, and even when we do, everyone on campus feels that MSA shuts out all other Muslims, such as the non-hijabis, or brelvi desis.

Stupid. Our MSA list has almost 200-300 people on it, yet only 15-20 people show up to the meetings.

You would think at the college level, MSA should become a little more than just Friday jummah’s, like it was in high school.

I think it all just leads back to the whole MSA vibe where we scare people off, and that “air” in the religion building where we pretend the other gender doesn’t exist.

Like a sister said before, gender relations workshops would be cool to have, and I’d be all for that, but I don’t think the people in MSA would agree, which I find hilarious.

Kheir, it’s all good. I have a feeling that over the next few years the MSA will most likely change.

I’m glad I’m taking a break.