Oh to be…

Oh to be your compassion when you comforted the saddened boy “Ya aba Umayr mā fa’alan nughayr?”
And your kindness when you embraced and played with Hasan and Husayn
To be the reddish black kohl with which you lined your lustrous eyes
And your empathy when you shortened the prayer upon hearing a child’s cries
To be your humour when you jokingly offered Zahir as a slave you would sell
And your tears when you embraced your beloved son Ibrāhim farewell
To be your valour when you fought fearlessly at Badr, leaving them bewildered
And your love when you kissed Fātimah as into your presence she entered
Oh to be your mercy when you forgave those who swooped down to attack you from Tan’īm
And the thorny tree which you took shade under from the sun’s glaring beam
To be the bed of animal skin stuffed with palm fibre upon which you lay down to rest
And your hospitality when you offered the little milk you had to guest after guest
To be the sand that trickled through your silky soft hands, from the Arabian desert
And your benevolence when you shrouded the leader of the hypocrites in your own blessed shirt
To be the stick from the arāk tree with which you brushed your teeth, so bright
And to be your striped red garment,
O one more resplendent than the moon on the 14th night


ألا بذكر الله تطمءن القلوب

I remember the time I was on the motorway. Sixty miles per hour.
The sky glowed orange as the fiery ball sunk lower, brushing the tips of the trees.
I pulled up at a service station, lay my coat on the damp grass and raised my hands saying ‘God is the greatest’.
At that moment, scattered worries drifted from my mind and my heart truly felt content.
As my forehead touched the soil in prostration, a wave of tranquility washed over me.
Softly, I whispered to my Lord the Most High, humbled at the thought of my silent prayers being echoed up in heaven.
Then there was that time on holiday in Istanbul.
The sweet sound of birds chirping fluttered to my ears, followed by a magical chorus of voices.
Some were loud and some soft, distant.
Fajr athan.
I scrambled out of bed and flung the balcony door open only to reveal a wondrous melody of sounds.
Several calls to prayer were being announced throughout the city, waking every man and woman to kneel before God Almighty.
Cool water trickled through my fingers as I performed ablution, purifying me inside and out.
Rolling out a prayer mat, with the rising golden sun as my lamp, I stood before my Lord in awe.

Truthfully ask yourselves, does it feel like you are missing something in your life?
Then I sincerely advise you to pray. Talk to the One who created you. The One who guides you. The One who loves you more than anyone.
I promise you, you will never find that peace anywhere else.

ألا بذكر الله تطمءن القلوب.
Verily in the rememberance of Allah, do hearts find [ tranquility, peace, serenity, contentment, rest, settelment. ]

So pray. Allah truly knows what you’re going through. Pour your heart out to him. He will listen. Cry till you have no tears left. He will forgive you. Just try, you won’t regret it.

Abdullah ibn Zubayr R.A

I wish to take you back in time dearest reader…
to the holy city of Makkah in 64 AH.
The rightful caliph is Abdullah ibn Zubayr Al Awwam and most of the people of Hijaz, Palestine and Iraq pledged allegiance to him whilst only a handful from Damascus and Sham accepted Abdul Malik ibn Marwan as the caliph.

Thus Hajjaj bin Yousuf at Thaqafi, the wicked tyrant, vowed to kill Abdullah ibn Zubayr and with a huge army, he set out towards Makkah and besieged it. Their evil weapons were huge catapults in which they would throw fire rocks into Makkah, killing thousands.

Abdullah ibn Zubayr was praying salaah ( and his salaah was so serene that birds would perch on him whilst in ruku and sujood! )
when a rock struck him and the fire exploded on his beard and chest but SubhanAllah! This noble companion was so engrossed in his conversation with The Almighty Lord that he did not even acknowledge it..

Most of his army abandoned him and after an awe inspiring converstion with his mother Asmaa bint Abi Bakr, who advised him
“O my son! Tie your belt so when you fall, your ‘awrah is not exposed!”
“O my son! Fight with bravery for you are the son of Zubayr and the grandson of Abu Bakr and your grandmother was Safiyyah.”

He fought like a thousand warriors from when the sun was at its peak till it disappeared from the red sky of Makkah, ablaze with fire rocks.

When they martyred him, Hajjaj hung his body up which emmited the beautiful scent of musk, and vowed to only take it down after his old blind mother begged him to.

Asmaa bint Abi Bakr was lead to her son’s body and after making duaa she said
“Isn’t it time that the knight of Allah was allowed to come off his horse?”
And when they told this to Hajjaj, he felt belittled and brought the body down.

Narrations say when Abdullah ibn Zubayr was born, Madinah erupted in joy and when he left this world, Makkah erupted in tears…

May Allah bless me and you with the qualities of Abdullah ibn Zubayr and make our Salaah imitate his beautiful Salaah which he imitated off his grandfather Hadhrat Abu Bakr who imitated the best soul to grace this earth, Muhammad pbuh.

East and West weep

اغبر افاق السماء و كورت
شمس النهار و الظلم العصر ان
The horizons of the sky have been covered with dust and the sun has lost its light. The night and the day, the world and the hereafter, all appear dark.

فالأرض من بعد النبي كئيبة
اسفا عليه كثيرة الرجفان
So the earth is left grief stricken over the Prophet pbuh’s death. It is quaking excessively as though a tremor has struck it.

فلتبكه شرق البلاد و غربها
و لتبكه مضر و كل يمان
So the countries of the east and west weep over him, and Mudar and the entire Yemen weep.

و ليبكه الطود المعظم جوه
و البيت ذو الاستار و الاركان
The huge mountains and the winds surrounding them weep; and also the draped Ka’bah with all its corners.

يا خاتم الرسل المبارك صنوه
صلى عليك منزل الفرقان
O Last of all the prophets, most blessed! May He who revealed the criterion shower you with infinite mercies and blessings.

-After the burial of the noble messenger Muhammad pbuh, his beloved daughter Faatimah R.A returned to her humble home and some female companions arrived at her house only to find her reciting the above beautiful verses-

Bilaal R.A


Close your eyes and imagine you’re in the enlightened city of Yathrib centuries ago..

It is a day of severe grief. Hearts are aching, for the final messenger has departed from this world and left his companions paralysed in shock.
His beloved body has not yet been buried and Bilaal r.a stands to give the athan.
Often Rasulullah pbuh would come out of his house which was adjacent to the masjid when Bilaal r.a would call the words
‘Ashadu anna muhammadur rasulullah’
But on this sad day, when Bilaal r.a called ‘Ashadu anna muhammadur rasulullah’
In his touching voice, he looked for the prophet pbuh and did not see him.
Bilaal r.a choked and began to weep with immense sadness. His grief caused the companions around him to sob uncontrollably with him.
Imagine! The masjid of Rasulullah pbuh was filled with cries of the sahaba, mourning the most precious soul ever to have walked the earth.

For three days after that, Bilaal r.a choked up each time he tried to give the athan for his tongue could not bear to utter the name of his beloved. He could not remain in Madinah whilst Muhammad pbuh was no longer there! Thus he sought permission from Abu Bakr and left the city of Rasulullah pbuh for Shaam.

One night, he saw the beautiful appearance of Muhammad pbuh in a dream who said to him
” Oh Bilaal, what is it that you never come to visit us?”
When he awoke, he travelled to Madinah at a hurried pace on the wings of enthusiasm and love to meet his beloved. He reached the enlightened city and lay on the grave of Muhammad pbuh, remembering the sweet days when Muhammad pbuh was alive.

The people were overwhelmed with joy to see the muathin and pleaded with him to deliver the call to prayer as they had been deprived of it for so long. But Bilaal r.a refused as it was too much for his suffering heart to bear.
He then saw the shining faces of Hassan r.a and Hussain r.a who said to Bilaal
“Oh Bilaal, give the athan!”
So Bilaal r.a got up and the beautiful words flowed out his mouth, ringing through the streets of Madinah. Despite it being so difficult for him to call, how could he refuse the request of the grandsons of his beloved??
As soon as he uttered the words, agony evident in his tone, the entire city erupted. Men and women came out of their homes tearing their hair and clothes and there was not a single person in the blessed city whose eyes were not wet with tears.
Just imagine this beautiful heartbreaking scene!
Memories of the blissful days when the prophet of Allah sat amongst them penetrated their souls with shattering pain.

Then came the occasion of the conquest of Masjid ul Aqsa where all the great sahaba had gathered and the likes of Khalid ibn Walid, Muaadh ibn Jabal and Ubaydah ibn al Jarrah said to Hadhrat Umar ibn al Khattab
“Oh Umar, request Bilaal to give the athan”
So Umar ibn al Khattab requested Bilaal r.a to give the athan so he did.
And when he reached
‘Ashadu anna Muhammadur Rasulullah’
the beards of the sahaba which were once black and now had become grey, became drenched with tears. There was not a sahabi whose beard was not soaked with the tears of remembering their beloved.
Imagine! The companions had to console the Giant of Islaam, Umar ibn al Khattab as his heart was in severe agony at hearing the name of Muhammad pbuh.

Bilaal r.a was blessed with the special opportunity of calling athan at the three holiest places.
The haram in Makkah, the masjid of Rasulullah pbuh in Madinah and Masjid al Aqsa in Jerusulam.

Then 20 AH, in the city of Damascus, Bilaal r.a lay on his deathbed and his wife cried
“What grief!” “What sadness!”
And Bilaal r.a replied
“No, say what happiness!”
“Tomorrow, I will meet the prophet pbuh and the companions”..

Can you imagine??
What kind of faith this absolute hero of Islaam had. He was dying, yet he was joyed at leaving this world for he belived firmly he would finally meet the prophet of Allah pbuh.
This beautiful man who made many strong men weep by his powerful words of athan surely has reunited with his beloved.

May Allah make all of our hearts enlightened with the same love Bilaal r.a had for Rasulullah pbuh.

Everything is in His hands

The night I looked twice at the glowing disc drift through the night sky,
at the stars twinkling, gas and dust whirling, burning furiously,
all the while aware of my heart beating in flawless rhythm;
was the time I truly comprehended the Power of God,
Everything, Every-Thing is in His hands.


Versatile Blogger Award

Thank you dear @reflectionsofataalibah for nominating me..

Seven facts about me:

•My role model is Aasiyah (may Allah be pleased with her) -a phenomenal woman-
Asiya RA [Wife Of Pharaoh]: http://youtu.be/3IJqdDlblKE

•My mother believes I have an unhealthy obsession with the sky (I disagree!)


•I don’t like tea or coffee *gasp*

•My current favourite animals are Penguins -soo cute!- and Arctic Wolves.

•I had a sudden interest in baking but erm that didn’t turn out too well..


•Whatever age I am, I doubt I will ever not go out to enjoy snow, Loovee it.





•I have a desire to travel to places unheard of and have countless road trips.




Hope you enjoyed my facts and photos! (Number seven photos are not mine unfortunately! One day though…)

I nominate these versatile bloggers.. 😝


Treasure of dawn


I climb up to the rooftop to see the soft amber glow of dawn. It’s warm rays create golden flecks in the sky, the brilliance captivating my soul. Ribbons of sunlight twirl through a silouhette of trees. Tilting my head to the sky, I exhale as cool drops spill onto my forehead and trickle down my chin. The air so crisp, adorned with hues of persimmon, glistening drops of rain and a faint chorus of tweets rejuvenates my being. Oh how majestic is the One who created this splendour. The early morning breeze brings a rich scent of the forest; wild flowers and pine cone, And the winds whisper amidst me, almost as if this breathtaking scene is Our Secret…

(Let’s just pretend I didn’t take this at sunset shshhhh..)

Beautiful Chaos


I stand in the middle of that field as soft droplets begin to sprinkle onto autumn leaves.
   And look up to the dusky abyss;


Blazing fire against the soft blue sky, the sun pools under thunderous clouds, lighting up the smoky grey edges.
   Honks of cars and endless chatter of passer’s by drift into a hazy background.
Surrounded by bustling city life yet all I can hear is the low rumbling echo of the wind adorned with a sweet melody of tweets.


Wisps of orange melt into violets and indigo as the sun sinks beneath the horizon. A hot silver bolt streaks accross the darkening sky and icy drops thud to the


“A beautiful chaos” I whisper, the wind sweeping up my words through a whirlwind of leaves..


#ExhibitionIslam •Holy Scriptures•


•Beautiful 18th century CE Ottoman Quran pages, decorated with gold diacritics throughout, with gold margins on each page.•


•A magnificent handwritten leaf from a Quran fragment, probably Banda, before AH 1208/1790-1 CE. There are eleven lines of strong black nakth script within gold clouds, gold roundels between verses, illumimated marginal medallions, marking every tenth verse, red persian interliner translation, surah headings in red, margins with tafsir written in black and red, final folio with commentary dated 1205.•


•18th century jewish torah scroll from Libya. Written on leather skin.•

•A rare 19th century CE torah fragment from morocco.•