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 way..it'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 toddler...is 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

  

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

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

Solitude

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. Annnnyyyyywaaayyyy..here'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  

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 husband........no. 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 now..it'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

 

Split

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'.

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 worst..so 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', really..here: http://ask.fm/um3awas

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

A New Dawn

Salam 3lykm,

Yesterday's post was written in bitterness, anger, & pain. Al7mdlla, I'm recuperating from my 'breakdown', or should I say, 'state of utter madness'? I heard an Islamic lecture whilst doing some household chores today, & typically, I'll admit I had a craze for lectures, once upon a time. But now, on very rare occasions would you find me listening to one; not necessarily a good thing, really.

It was on "el 7ilm" - and the story was that about 3thman bin 6al7a, Ra'9yallah 3nh. Anyway, when the scholar said, "Rasulullah صلى الله عليه و سلم was deeply saddened, & wished to spend his last moments in Makkah, his hometown, in the remembrance of His Lord.." that struck a chord. Here, I was lamenting about not 'belonging' anywhere, & being an 'illegal immigrant'; here, I was ranting about the instability that plagues the life of an expat. Yet, I'd clearly forgotten how Rasulullah صلى الله عليه و سلم was driven out of his homeland, by his own people! I'd clearly forgotten about the biggest form of instability that looms over every single living being's life: Death. 

What's the use of a visa, let alone citizenship, when the Angel of Death stands before you, ready to extract your soul? Death is inevitable, & as per 7deeth, a present for believers. Yet, its time is unknown to us. We are given reminders, as the souls of our loved ones depart from this world, one by one, but we rarely pay any heed to the fact that it is a reminder.

Yes, this house holds a lot of memories, but so does this world, doesn't it? One day, these memories won't really matter anymore. Yes, it has been over a year since I got married, but would I have learned what I learned, had we been living together from the very first night? Maybe I had to endure this stress for a good reason. Maybe someday, I'll come across someone going through the same predicament, someone who feels like this world is slowly closing up on her, & as vast as it may be, there's no room for her in it, besides 6ft under. Maybe then I'll be able to tell her, it'll all pass..& when it does, she'll realize it was truly worth it.

It is true what Rasulullah صلى الله عليه و سلم said about us women; we truly are ناقصات العقل و الدين We panic at the slightest turbulence in our lives, forgetting the reward for those who wait patiently for it to pass. At this instance, only one thing comes to mind: الحمد لله على نعمة الإسلام و كفى بها من نعمة

رَبَّنَا ظَلَمۡنَآ أَنفُسَنَا وَإِن لَّمۡ تَغۡفِرۡ لَنَا وَتَرۡحَمۡنَا لَنَكُونَنَّ مِنَ ٱلۡخَـٰسِرِينَ

Still Breathin'

Salam Allah 3lykm,

It's been a while, as usual. This is going to be a post of unadulterated therapy; I have SO MUCH SHIT going on inside my head, it has all my vitals going quirky. I've yet to move in with Bu3awas; yes, it's been a year, and counting. No, I have no bloody idea when it's going to happen. But it better be soon, or else Bu3awas will have to come get me from KSA.

Yes, that's right. My dad's retiring in February, which means..this ends my parents' stay in the UAE. I don't want to come to terms with it, because AD has always been home. The place where we live, it holds A LOT of memories; it holds my entire life. I was 5 when we moved to this apartment, & I am hoping it'll be the place where Bu3awas FINALLY takes me home from, but I no longer have any expectations. 

To those who think he doesn't exist, I'm tempted to swear at them 'til people begin to suspect I have Tourettes, because you have no goddamn idea how much stress I've endured, & continue to do so..during this predicament. I feel like tearing their hearts out of their chest, with a blunt knife..but even THAT won't suffice to match the pain I've suppressed within me. I would pray for you to go through it, so you'd realize how bad it is, & think twice before you allow the shit you're full of to pollute the environment, but no. I pray you live blissfully with your spouses, in this world and the Hereafter. 

I don't know what's going to happen; I've stopped hoping 'I'll move out soon'. I've not even mentioned the 'resident visa' issue, and I think it's best I don't. Let's just say, I don't belong anywhere, by 2013. Welcome to the life of an expat.

With uncertainties so huge, I don't look forward to moving in anymore. I literally feel dejected at this point; part of me prays I don't live to see my 24th birthday. I'm being ungrateful; others have it worse, I know. But give me that 'optimistic' shit, when you've been in this very shit-hole. At this point, I don't know whether to be appreciative of those who thought of this 'brilliant' marriage plan, or to hate them. Maybe I'm being childish, but bear with me here. I've held all this mahoosive load in me for over a year. Cut me some slack; friends who never even thought they'd get married, have kids now or are pregnant..while I sit here. "Good comes to those who wait" Yeah, unless death reaches 'em, first. But I suppose that's 'good', too. For those who have actually prepared for their journey onwards to their final abode.

And then those..I can't even think of profanity appropriate enough to define them..god-forsaken people who keep asking, "When's the wedding?" Go die, please. Does it really look like I give half a slither of a petrified log of SHIT about a WEDDING? Yeah, one and a half year later of being a bloody 'BRIDE', you expect me to doll up for you, & perch myself on a stage..so I can be oggled at? NO! SCREW YOU. My parents are uprooting their whole life, & going somewhere where they STILL won't have a proper base; somewhere where they have NO FRIGGIN' SOCIAL STATUS because of RACISM, NOT NATIONALISM..and you're wondering when the hell they're going to throw a fancy bash for your goddamn entertainment??

They'll STILL be EXPATS there; they STILL won't have a place to SETTLE down. In their 50-60s. WHAT KIND OF LIFE IS THIS? The life of a goddamn EXPAT. We basically have no stability; our own country is ruled by criminals, & the funny thing is..those who rule it, live OUTSIDE the country itself. YES, THAT'S HOW GODDAMN SCREWED OVER IT IS. We can't even think of going back there, because that's like saying, "Oh yes, let's go live in a garbage dump which is ruled by a bunch'a criminals."

I'm infuriated; I can't control anything in my life..not even the slightest thing. Then, I have all these teenagers coming up to me, telling me what to do with my life. With all due respect, go graduate from high school/university, then come share your wisdom with me.

Meanwhile, I think I'm just going to excuse myself and dig a grave, and wait for the Angel of Death to come along..because I don't see things getting any better; they're only getting progressively worse. Oh wait, no..I can't do that. I'm going to be an illegal immigrant soon. Thank you, Nationalism.

Soul-deep

Salam Allah 3lykm,

It's been AGES since I last wrote a poem; so long, that I thought I definitely don't have it in me now. Well, I was wrong..thankfully. I leave you with my latest, "Soul-deep". I would like to remind all readers NOT to jump to assumptions about my life, after reading my poetry; thank you.

I love, yet it's all in vain
Countless are the tears I've cried
I fail to think it's worth all the pain
Yet, taking it all in, I've persistently tried

I'm not one to sit in denial
I'm not one to put with it all
I would've overcome this hurdle
Had I not been the one to fall

My feelings have been cast away
All consideration tossed aside
With a bludgeoned heart, I'll play
The role of a 'blissful bride'

Ws Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3ala w Barakateh