Thursday, December 22, 2016

Love Is Life

Salaaam Allah 3lykm,

I'm excited to write this post, I've been looking forward to it since the second I hit 'save' on my phone. Yes, I'm finally back with another poem to add to the collection of poems I've already written! As always, I thought I didn't have it in me..but one person never lost faith in me. He's the very person who persistently pushed me to go back to blogging/writing, telling me to pick back where I left off.

As I write this, we've both turned a year older..and this is the sixth birthday I've had the pleasure of, to share with this wonderful man. I never gave a second thought to birthdays before, but ever since he came into my life, it's all changed. How could it not? WE SHARE THE SAME BIRTHDAY! 

Anyway, enough with the rambling - I leave you with my latest...and not my last, 'Love Is Life'. (Excuse the cliche of a title, but it really fit!)

My love for you continues to grow
You've made my life worthwhile
You take me high when I'm low
Tame me when I go wild

Immense is the happiness you bring
It's something you may not realize
When anger and pain is all I feel within
And with dejection, my heart writhes

Your absence, darker than the darkest nights
Leaves my world covered in frost
A traveler without any guiding light
With treacherous paths to cross

You're the sun to my weary soul
Breathing life into the mundane
To my destitute self, its dole
An asylum to my insane

I promise to love you forever
Through life's ups-and-downs
Effortlessly it may be, or an endeavor
To yours, my heart is eternally bound

HAPPY 29TH BIRTHDAY, BU3AWAS (As much as you argue against it, you're always going to be a year older, buddy. And a year wiser, but don't make me regret this!;p)

Thursday, November 24, 2016


Salam 3lykm,
I can always count on my blog to save me through the darkest nights, even if I've neglected it for a year. I'm coming close to 3 months postpartum; Mansoor is going to be 3 months old on the 3rd of December, Inshallah. So now, I'm a mother of two handsome boys, Al7mdlla. Even then, things aren't always as they appear..with that said, I leave you with my latest musings, written in the quiet of the night, after everyone had gone to sleep.

Let's cut to the chase; being a mother of two, I don't have much time to myself. But this post isn't about motherhood; it's about me. It's to help me unscramble the mess my mind is, to 'de-clutter'.

Time and time again, I feel so alone. And in this loneliness, my thoughts haunt me and taunt me. I feel like I've exhausted myself, trying to run after loved ones..proving myself to those who have - and always willdoubt me.

I feel like when I look around, I see familiar faces..but no one I can share unadulterated thoughts with, for the fear of being judged..for the fear of being mocked, and for the fear of having them used against me. 

Fears. They seem to be the noose that's tightening around my neck. I feel so drained, because of overthinking and over-analyzing every word I utter or type. I feel like shutting myself in, indefinitely. I feel like escaping from my life; taking a hiatus from all my responsibilities, and sinking into the dark depths of nothingness. I feel like there's no one who understands me, because I've yet to understand myself.

I feel so lost, like a person who's just been thrown off a ship, right in the middle of the ocean. I have no life-jacket or lifesaver, and trying to stay afloat is becoming increasingly difficult cumbersome. Unnecessary. 

It would just be a lot easier to close my eyes, and let gravity take over. It would just be a lot easier to leave my limbs limp, and let the waves swallow me up..finally show me what's beneath the surface. It would just be a lot easier to succumb to the mighty ocean, instead of battling it, and facing defeat.

رَبَّنَا ظَلَمْنَا أَنْفُسَنَا وَإِنْ لَمْ تَغْفِرْ لَنَا وَتَرْحَمْنَا لَنَكُونَنَّ مِنَ الْخَاسِرِينَ

و السلام عليكم و رحمة الله تعالى و بركاته

Tuesday, July 19, 2016


Salam 3lykm,

I find myself at the mercy of a keyboard once again. Until this post is written, I won't know whether that's fortunate or not, but I'm hoping it lifts the burden from my chest. Motherhood is endless; there's no pause button, and I think it's slowly getting to me. I can't just hand my baby over to someone, let alone take off on a getaway. And now I'm having another one. 

Everyday, I feel like I'm not cut out for this. I can barely take care of myself, let alone raise a decent human being. It's such a struggle, because life's entire purpose has changed. I feel like there are days when I want to throw in the towel, and say 'eff this! I'm done being a housewife'. There are days when I don't want to do a single thing, but how do you explain that to those around you? How do you tell them that you just want to hit pause indefinitely, when it doesn't even exist?

Even as I type, my son is stumbling all over the sofa, trying to get his mother's attention by hitting whatever keys he can get his pudgy little hands on. When all else fails, he then gets up to antics he knows are 'no nice', but at least Mama will put everything down..even if it means she won't be happy about it. See, a husband can be ignored when you're not in the mood for life, and to a certain extent, he will give you your space. But babies? How do you tell your baby, 'Mama is taking a break today - entertain yourself.' You just bloody can't.

Motherhood is super difficult. And I'm telling you, I'm not cut out for it. I don't have the patience or tolerance it be a mother. I might just be a monster, instead of a mother. Motherhood wasn't meant for the likes of myself; sometimes, I find myself wishing I'll wake up at some point, from this recurrent dream. Don't get me wrong; Eesa is the most adorable baby there ever could be, and counting him infinite times as a blessing, still wouldn't do him justice. In fact, that's exactly what makes me feel so inadequate.

Bu3awas has been after me to join some Mommy & Me classes, or communities of stay-at-home moms, but I really couldn't be bothered. I don't have the will or energy to interact with other adults, to forge friendships that may or not 'blossom' into something that would be beneficial for my well-being. Stuff it! I don't even want to smile some days; who's going to deal with the consequences of my lack of desire to feel anything, when I actually make the effort to be social?

I was never good at friendship, takes way too much effort - I'd rather channel whatever effort I can muster up, into motherhood. I can tell you one thing, though: there are days when I don't want to get out of bed, but when my baby peers at me innocently, with those big brown eyes of his..curiously pokes his stubby shrimp-like fingers up my nostrils, and giggles with delight as he exclaims, "Namma!" (Food!) makes me throw the covers off, and start yet another day.

So, that's my jumbled up take on motherhood. I'm not cut out for it, but there's no turning back now. I'm not cut out for it, but I have to force myself to be. I'm not cut out for it, but these little lives depend on me, so here's to feigning positivity..and possibly, a life of make-belief. 

رَبَّنَا هَبْ لَنَا مِنْ أَزْوَاجِنَا وَذُرِّيَّاتِنَا قُرَّةَ أَعْيُنٍ وَاجْعَلْنَا لِلْمُتَّقِينَ إِمَامًا

Tuesday, July 5, 2016

It's a Boy!

Salaaaam Allaahhh 3lykm!
'Where have I been all these months? I didn't even realize how long it's been since I last gave this blog any attention, to be quite honest. Well, it's finally happened; I was 15 when I took the alias of 'um3eesa' or 'um3awas'.....on the 2nd of October, Muhammad Eesa Khan finally came into our world.
Yes, that's where I've been..pregnancy was anything but easy, but the result was totally worth it. I now understand how women can have such rough pregnancies, yet do it all over again several times. They're not insane, as I initially assumed. Well, exceptions exist..I suppose!
Being a mother is super exhausting; sleep becomes a thing of the past. My little cherub tends to stay up all night, & sleeps while I nurse him throughout the day. Motherhood is a superpower on its own, though - I'm alive on less than 4 hours of sleep, Sb7analla. I don't feel sleep-deprived anymore; I suppose it's his cuteness that powers me on.'
I don't even remember when I starting writing this post, but as I complete it, Eesa will be 13 months old tomorrow, Al7mdlla. A lot has changed in life, obviously..but one thing I hate is, I've stopped writing. Completely. The last piece I wrote was well over a year ago. In fact, I don't think I have it in me to write anymore. Even if I do write, I won't have anything positive to say. We have enough negativity going around the world; don't really need to add to it, now do I? Don't exactly want people 'reading between the lines', scrutinizing every paragraph, and jumping to assumptions, either.

Why do I feel like I've said these words before? I'd probably find them in a post, if I were to go through my posts. Anyway, Eesa is now 3 months shy of 2 years, Al7mdlla...and will be a big brother in October, Inshallah. That's how long it has been since I last blogged. 

I won't lie..I don't have the desire to write anymore. Maybe it's because I don't have a laptop since May 2014, maybe it's because Bu3awas didn't give my writing much attention, when my blog was my pride and joy..I don't know the reason, but all I know is...I feel like I've completely lost the one talent I had. Now, with Bumpkin on the's going to be another few years before I manage to get any 'me time'...which is why I decided to sit my butt down, and update my neglected blog.

Needless to say, Bu3awas has been after me to resume blogging, and has been very encouraging altogether...a tad bit late, don't you think?!xD Rabbi yjzeeh elfrdous, nevertheless. It might help salvage whatever sanity hasn't been shot to hell by motherhood. How I'm going to manage taking care of a newborn, whilst running after a beyond my understanding. But I know one thing for sure: When He brings you to it, He brings you through it. That's what I'm clinging on to, for dear life.

I think this post is now long enough to suffice as an update. It might even be the one that brings me back to the blogosphere..wallahu a3lam. I must admit, I'm thoroughly enjoying typing my thoughts out, watching them transform into words right before my eyes! Maybe this is what I've needed all along...

Anyway, 'til next time...and hopefully it won't be when I'm expecting my third munchkin, because that's not going to be for quite a few years from now. It would be a shame to give up on this unexplainable feeling of clattering away on keys..basically doing something that isn't baby-related!

Drop a comment or two, if you want this blog to come back to life.

و السلام عليكم و رحمة الله تعالى و بركاته


Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Fleeting Moment

Salam Allah 3lykm,

Blogging. I miss hammering the keys furiously when in a state of blind rage. I miss pouring my heart out, not giving a damn about the criticism that is harbored in hearts void of compassion; hearts ridden with malice so venomous, it devours them. To hell with it all; 'not to write' isn't an option; 'not to write' is suicide.

Appreciation bears no cost, yet it is withheld by the iron-fisted. Dreams are drowned by endless tears, and smiles are swallowed up by fear of the unknown. Fear of what atrocities are about to be committed; fear of becoming prey. Prey to the stone-hearted; prey to savages, prey to the whim-driven.

I'd like to run away right now, from everything and everyone; push every single loved one away, before they get hurt by my bitter words.  

It's that fleeting moment in life when I feel like the walls around me are caving in, crushing my ribs, making every other breath impossible. That moment when 'safety' loses all meaning, and you feel exposed to the snarling wolves of this world, waiting to rip you up into pieces. That moment when every loved one's reassurance sounds like hypocrisy laced with mockery - acid on open wounds. That fleeting moment when Eblees maliciously empowers both heart and mind , at the edge of victory -- when ذكر الله shoves The Eternally Damned away. 

 - أَلَا بِذِڪۡرِ ٱللَّهِ تَطۡمَٮِٕنُّ ٱلۡقُلُوبُ -
Inner-peace is just a heartbeat away, amidst the turmoil of a bloody war; all harm is kept at bay by ذكر الله.

و السلام عليكم و رحمة الله تعالى و بركاته

Friday, December 6, 2013

To Write or Not to Write

Salam Allah 3lykm, 

Life is ridiculously fast-paced; December's already here, and 2013 is about to come to an end in less than 30 days. Surprisingly, my 'inner poet' sprung awake today after a long slumber; once again, all scrambled thoughts. I don't think anyone will be able to understand the actual meaning behind what I've written, which is okay. 

Do I have what it takes to survive, or will this struggle be the death of me? This is taking a heavy toll on my life, and is eating away at my sanity. 
Should I leave, I will probably be replaced. Staying would only cause grief, having left the greatest solace.
I don't want this to be my biggest regret; I need some time to recuperate. As blissful as it might get, it takes great strength to accept your Fate. 
Only ink knows the scars etched into my heart; tales of betrayal, hypocrisy, and hate. 'Reading between the lines' is merely a start; only my Lord knows of my truest state.
Ink spills over as I try to make sense of my internal battles; forming words and sentences snaking like chains and shackles. Do I really gain 'freedom', as I write my troubles down? Or is this just a medium that'll have me shackled to the ground?
Will sentences I write of my struggle, be held taut against my neck? Will my attempt to salvage sanity be the shovel, that buries me under dirt with the dead?
Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3aala w Barakateh

Tuesday, August 6, 2013


Salam 3lykm,

Miss me? 'Course not. Well, I'm back with more, anyway. Like it and read it, or save your breath 'n' beat it. Okay no, that was rude of me..I'm sorry. Nah, not really.'s what I wrote last night. Just some more bottled up thoughts that needed to be released, really.

I will never feel like I belong, because I don't. I will always run towards solitude for comfort, knowing that the world will only taunt me for sharing my heart's pleas. I refuse to be labeled a 'control-freak', thus my lips shall remain sealed, & I will not allow myself to become involved.  
All I want is some certainty that puts a smile upon my face. All I want is freedom; the freedom to run away from time to time, in search of what needs to be sought. Don't restrict me, don't constrain me, don't hold me down.  
Let me be; let me revel in my solitude, as my thoughts take the shape of letters. Letters that form words and string into coherent sentences. Sentences that depict the critical state I've reached, and want to flee. 
Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3aala w Barakateh  

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

ADHD or Borderline Insane?

Salam Allah 3lykm,

It's been a while since I last blogged; people keep asking me why I've stopped blogging. I haven't; I've just lost all inspiration to write, to be quite honest. Anyway, here's a post for you guys..more like a rant diarrhea in thoughts-form.

I can't really say I enjoy life as it is; I feel like I'm stuck in a rut. I thought I'd be one of those dutiful wives, and I'd do whatever it takes to please my It gets painstakingly difficult, because you end up being taken for granted. I can see why marriage is portrayed in such a negative light now, and as much as I try to push those statements away, they keep haunting me.

It could also just be Eblees, but then wait. Isn't he in chains right now? Ramadan has been quite difficult, in that sense. My internal battles are bloody and ever-so-draining. What's worse is, I've failed myself. I've failed my own expectations of what my marriage was to be like.

So, here's a tip for all you singletons: dream all you want, but don't confine yourself to expectations. There's no such thing as a perfect marriage; it takes a LOT of effort to make one work smoothly. I now see why it's termed, 'half the Deen'; after all, Deen is all about sacrifice. Marriage is all about that: sacrifice. 

Crazy ups-and-downs, worse than a roller-coaster. Being single was so much more easier; hell, I didn't even have to take care of myself, let alone anyone else. The ups are awesome, but the downs are just as bad; I'm still toying with the thought...whether or not the 'ups' are worth the 'downs'. 

Biggest problem is, I write to expel all negativity. To me, writing's always been therapy, but's being looked like as a way to complain to the world. You cannot imagine how difficult it is for me not to write. If I had it my way, I'd have a new blog post out every other day, but now I need to think countless times, because I never know how my 'therapy' will be interpreted.

In fact, I don't know what to say or do anymore; I doubt everything. I think countless times before I make a move, because it could always be perceived wrong, leading to another argument. When I do explode from time to time - and it's been happening ever-so-frequently now - I think about it, and wonder how much damage has been done so far, and whether or not its reversible.

I feel absolutely hollowed out, and it's not even been 6 months, let alone a year. They say the first few years are the toughest; if so, here's praying I withstand them. I thought distance was the cause of all miscommunication; hell, living together doesn't make much of a difference, either.

Maybe it's because I suck at communication; maybe I should start writing letters, instead. I make a lot more sense when I write, than when I talk. Maybe I should abandon verbal communication all together...or maybe, just maybe..I should write the letters, then read 'em out, so my expressions and emotions can't be misread. I guess I'll start rehearsing beforehand, so I seem more confident about my stance. 

Honestly, I don't know. I don't know anything. Nothing seems to make sense; everything, including my thoughts..everything is doubtful.

Does a mid-20s crisis exist? If it does, then this just might be it. 

It's sad how we're never happy; those who are single, wish to be married; those who are married, wish they were single. I guess what we lack, is gratefulness. After all,
لَٮِٕن شَڪَرۡتُمۡ لَأَزِيدَنَّكُمۡ‌ۖ وَلَٮِٕن ڪَفَرۡتُمۡ إِنَّ عَذَابِى لَشَدِيدٌ۬  
Maybe that's just what this is; an answer to my ungratefulness. Maybe I need to take a rain-check; put everything else on hold, and 'check myself before I wreck myself'. See, I just don't know. I'm rethinking everything I type (except the Ayah, of course), literally caught between the crossfire of thoughts churning relentlessly in my mind. 

Overthinking, is it? I don't know. My mind should have come with a 'pause' button; you'd think I have ADHD after reading this post. It's so disorganized, exactly like my thoughts. Everything is scattered everywhere; I don't know what to process, and what not to process. 

Maybe it's not marriage at all, but it's me. Maybe my wrecked train of thoughts has shot my perception to hell. I don't know. It's just one hell of a tumultuous state of confusion, and it's exactly why I also fear writing thoughts down. 

If this isn't a mid-20s crisis, then is this what Insanity looks like? Am I staring Insanity in the eye, while it grasps me at the neck? I don't know.

Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3aala w Barakateh


Monday, June 10, 2013


Salam 3lykm,

Who reads this blog, anyway? It would be nice to hear from silent readers, if any. Anyway, I'm back with a poem; you won't understand it, so don't try to 'read between the lines'. It's just a depiction of my very scrambled thoughts, which I can't share with anyone, for the fear that..they might assume something is wrong.

Nothing's wrong; can't a married woman voice her doubts from time to time? I mean, that would ensure she wouldn't dwell on them, as they wouldn't be in her mind, then. Right? Am I making any sense? I don't know. I am to myself. I think.

We've all said this cliché sentence, or at least..thought it: I don't know who I am anymore. Maybe it's just all a part of 'growing up'; you inevitably change, whether you want to or not. Whether you realize it or not. Whether you try to stop it or not. 

Just..don't try to analyze what I'm trying to say 'between the lines', okay? Maybe I'm trying to scream something significant; maybe I'm not. Maybe it's just the remnants of what my brain cells have managed to squeeze out, after being abused by the junk I've relentlessly exposed them to. I don't know.

This is just another poem that makes no sense; read it, and think nothing of it. I leave you with, 'Split'.

Holding on to the fragments of my past
Fearing the worst, while faced by Reality
Some days find me steadfast
Whilst others threaten my sanity

I have failed to accept certain change
Resorting to a life of pretense
It sounds a lot more than just 'strange'
To some, it won't even make sense

Who is the stranger I see in the mirror everyday?
Does she have what was once mine?
Or is she the one who threw it all away
Whilst Reality deceptively drew its blinds?

Remember, don't try and analyze it..but feel free to leave a comment if you want to. Anonymously or not.

And if you want this blog to be updated a lot more frequently, let me know. I might just manage to start writing again. If not, let me know as well..but that won't stop me. Just sayin'.

Sunday, May 12, 2013

Post-'whirlwind' wedding

Salaaaaaam Allaaaaaahhhh 3lykmmm!

Oh-SO-much has changed, since the last time I posted on this blog! Let's see..I'm a live-in wifey now, and y'all know what that entails. Yes, I've started cooking..I've even started using makeup, & no..not as war paint. I've actually learned how to apply makeup from Youtube tutorials. They actually make sense to me now; it's not like they're using some alien language that leaves me utterly bewildered.

Here's a funny thing: I still live in my parents' house, though. With Bu3awas. That's a ginormous relief; gone are the long-distance days, Al7mdlla..I wasn't a fan of them, I kid you not! That's the only information I'm dishing out; the stalkerish activity on my blog has me wary and all that jazz.

I've not written anything in ages, and I'm beginning to suspect that the writer in me has either slipped into a coma, or a grave. But then you obviously know that, since this blog's been neglected for the longest time ever, in its 'life'.

I don't really know what to write anymore, because now that I'm married..if I were to write a depressive post, people would immediately jump to the conclusion that something's wrong with the marriage. If I resorted to ranting here, Bu3awas might read it and assume the yeah. I guess it's just 'safer'..this 'negligence'. For now, at least.

I don't even know if you guys read this blog anymore; I mean, it's been quite a long time since I received a comment of some sort! Not that Blogger compromises on anonymity, but I've actually got an Ask.Fm page now, for those of you who have any questions to ask, or anything to share. So, feel free to drop a line, or a paragraph. Whatever you're 'into',

I don't know when I'm going to get the chance to write here again, and what 'news' I might have for you when I do, but yeah. 'Til next time, keep safe and happy.

With all the shit this world brings to you...bag it up and ship it off to the nearest manure manufacturing plant, will ya?

Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3ala w Barakateh