Home is where the heart is. That saying has never felt truer to me than it does now. From Thatta to Karachi to Queens , full circle and to this little town in Mississippi, I have always been home.

Anytime I have been homesick, it's when I was without my mom. When I was younger, it would only be a few days till I burst into tears, but a couple weeks before I would fully appreciate her return. In a way, its still the same now. I miss her incredibly when she's gone. But now it takes very little time to realize all that she does and is, in her absence...and I can hold out longer before I cry.

What home is has changed, what it means hasn't. It's still the place I can let my hair down, and genuinely laugh (however strange it may be). It's where the silence is never awkward, and your words are heard for all that you mean in them. The enthusiasm shared, the optimism abound, the sighs or tears are uninhibited. Where the arms are always open to hide in, the shoulder available to cry on, the tea is hot and the emotions flow freely.

SubhanAllah...what I would give to be home again...

Noble knights on white steeds, prince charmings, stunning brides, and princesses...everyone is coming out of the woodworks. From my distant family, my childhood friends, my real-life & virtual muslim sisters, and even the non-muslims in my community (classmates)...everyone is getting married, engaged, or having babies. MashaAllah, and its not even spring yet.

The last post seems to come off sadder than I had intended(which wasn't much...sad wasn't an adjective I would use). It is only the reflections on a lifelong relationship, which despite its ups and downs will endure (inshaAllah).

Here are some pictures from our trip to Jackson.

This is on the natchez trace. It goes from Nashville to Jackson. My sister drove all the way down, and in the city. When we were on our way back, traffic was bad and I offered to drive. She insisted she could handle it, so we went along our merry way (reciting plenty of du'as). After about 5 wrong turns and being completely caught up in heavy traffic without any idea where we were, she turned to me and said, Sammerai I think you should drive now. =) What else are big sisters for?

On the way down, we saw a sign for an "Antique Shop." Intrigued we stopped to check stuff out. This bike from (circa) 1952 for 15$ was one of the high quality things we saw. The store didn't open to 12, but from the samplings on the porch we decided not to wait. A sign on the door also invited us to sell things there. They "Buy junk, Sell antiques." Haha...they are pretty slick. That car in the back is us...not an antique. Just a sign of stereotypical desiness.

While waiting for the doctor, we got some chocolate ice cream. I poured some hot coffee into mine. MMMM. We also took some silly shots, posing as we indulged in the ecstatic delight that is .50 cent chocolate ice cream. I'll spare you those.


After the appointment, we went to Olive Garden. My sister was a bit embarrassed that I was taking pictures there. She told me, it's just Olive Garden! Ah, little does she know...
I ordered my Four Cheese Shrimp Tortellini, and sadly they ran out of it. No Four Cheese Shrimp Tortellini for me. Khair InshaAllah. I had something else instead, and Alhamdulillah it was pretty good. My sister got something that looked equally yummy. We ordered the much anticipated Tiramisu, and mmmmmm. It was fantastic. Alhamdulillah. The big surprise was when we recieved the bill. She didn't charge me for my entree. Woo hoo! Alhamdulillah.

There was shopping, and the getting lost, but Alhamdulillah that was about it.

I do not know any other man, or even person for that matter, who can tear apart my heart with the swift and effortless motion he makes with his eyes. It is easy to lose one's appetite, motivation, and any feeling of well-being. I did not give him this control over my emotions. I have thought about this for a long time, and I did not give it to him. This has always been there, it is something which he has because of who he is. I can not claim to have known love, or been able to describe love before, but never did I realize how love can cause just as much grief as happiness.

In Jane Eyre, Mr. Rochester tells Jane...

"There is a string tied under my rib to my heart, and I imagine there is one tied to you in a similiar fashion. I am afraid that this distance will make the string *snap* and I shall bleed inwardly."

The difference between the string between us is that he holds his end of the string in his hand and can tug and twist it at will, without the reciprocal pain. At times I may feel hatred, but I don't hate him. I cannot. I hate that he has such control over me... in the truest sense, control over my actions through manipulating my emotions. Wallahi if I ever have any personal preferences they are overriden by his. It is only my faith which I have the ability to hold above him. May Allah grant me the ability, sabr, and strength to persevere... if mountains can crumble then so can we... ameen.

We live our lives divided. When you tell me you're tired, I empathize because I've felt tired before. I don't see the strain in your eyes or hear the softness of your voice because its worn out. I don't know the tenseness in your muscles or feel how much you just want to pass out on the nearest soft surface. I don't know your pain, joy, anger, dissapointment, sadness, or love. From a distance,I can only guess from what I know of these emotions. Knowing of your troubles I pray for you, and I think about you. I wonder how to make things easier for you, yet I'm powerless to do anything, so I continue making silent prayers, offering to listen when I can.

What makes me realize this disparity between our lives, our joy, our problems, our worries, is even as we do all that we can for each other, we fall short. I fall short of everything I can do for you. For that, I hope you can forgive me.

That's "tag." MashaAllah, he is almost 4 and 1/2 months old. I spent a couple hours with him this afternoon, while his mom went to work. He ate, and then mostly slept. He also ate, while he slept. =) MashaAllah, very easy going kid. It was really nice as he just laid in my lap and snuggled up in the bend of my arm. I told his mom, I'm sorry I don't come to see you anymore... its all about him.

Broken up, deep inside
You won't get to see the tears I cry
Behind these hazel eyes...

...I told you everything
Opened up and let you in...

Now all that's left of me
Is what I pretend to be...

My baby's got a heart of stone
can't you people just leave her alone
she never did nothing to hurt you
so just leave her alone

The motion of her tiny hands
and the quiver of her bones below
are the signs of a girl alone
and tell you everything
you need to know

I can't explain it
I feel it often
everytime I see her face
but the way you treat her
fills me with rage and I
want to tear apart the place

You try to tell her what to do
and all she does is stare at you
her stare is louder than your voice
because truth doesn't make a noise

For the Love of Allah (subhana wata'ala)

Often we may hear/see people doing inappropriate things, we might be one of those people. When we are reminded about these things, we may say that Allah (subana wata'ala) will forgive us, because He loves us. That may very well be so, but being forgiven of persistant transgressions shows the love and mercy that He has for us, not the love we have for Him. If we love Allah(subhan wata'ala) we will not continue to do that which is forbidden in hopes of forgiveness. But rather we would strive to avoid anything and everything which He dislikes.

I wish I had the exact narration, but it was something like this: a man was praying in the masjid very hurriedly, and then prayed to Allah (Swt) for jannah. Umar (ra) saw him, and said, "with that?"

It made it think more carefully about my salaah. Why don't we dedicate more time and sincerity to it, when we know that it will weigh heavy on our scales of good or bad deeds?

May Allah (subhana wata'ala) make us of those who love Him, and whom He loves.