So I was on the train on the way to do my stuff (as mentioned in the last post) and I was squashed between two elderly men. They looked 65- 70ish. This is just a wild guess. This is part of their conversation. I really wanted to record it, but then I thought that would be rude and I’d be no better then any US major telephone company committing acts or warrant-less spying.

Old Man 1: How are things with Sarah?  Do you think you guys are like soul mates?
Old Man 2: Yes, I think so, something like that. She’s been acting alittle strange lately.
Old Man 1: Sometimes they do that. Say, what about Rose?
Old Man 2: No, I haven’t talked to her.
Old man 1: At least with Rose you don’t have to worry about her brother or anything like that.

Okay, so it doesn’t sound that cute typed out but it was ! I mean these two guys were so old and I thought this conversation sounded like it belonged to some younger men. I guess love knows no age and even at 70 you might be thinking is this person really the one? my soul mate? lol

Aren’t I too young to feel this way?

I’m getting ready to head downtown to officially accept my admissions to University (i.e. pay). I’m feeling really excited, especially because I just want to set foot in Robart’s library. Actually, I’m not sure if I am student there because I want to or because I just want to see the library. lol In case you didn’t know its the 3rd largest uni library after that of Hardvard and Yale. Boy oh boy! Let the studying begin.

I find myself thinking about time alot. So much so I wonder if it is healthy. It seems life is raising towards old age and our inevitable demise. By the time I finish my undergraduate degree, I’ll be 26. I know it’s not old, but for some reason I feel like wow, that’s old. Whats even more interesting, is that I look in the mirror and I really do see an adult. The baby face is gone. What’s it going to be like when I turn 30? My sister is 25. I actually DO have a brother that’s 30.

Last night I was thinking about my grandmother that passed away just a week after I converted to Islam back in Jan 2002. I haven’t really thought about her with a feeling of grief in a long time. So last night when I started to think about her, I really wanted to see her and talk to her. I imagined her being angry with me for becoming a “free thinking hippy” or worse “one of them commis” (lol im not but she’d say it). I wonder if she would be proud of me for going to university now and not putting it off any longer? Would she have loved me still even though I’m Muslim? and worse, even though I’m not a Republican? Would she see that I am who I am today in terms of my desire for service and my feelings of civic duty because of her? Sighs.

Of course that ^^ thinking lead me to think about my own aunts who seem to have totally disregarded me since I converted to Islam. I’m very sad about that, but alas, what can I do? Sometimes I wish I could sit down with my Aunt C and tell how she has benefited my life. I was listening when she gave me her advice on marriage, men, career, and family. I was listening when she gave me all the gems about persevering, self reflection, and healing.

And more along these lines, I started to think about my mother. My mother whom I haven’t seen in two years… sighs what can I say? I see the years on her face. I don’t know. I just feel like time is flying and I haven’t been able to live enough and I’m afraid to loose my mother. Her health isn’t peachy and I guess these things are inevitable.

Life is moving forward and we’re all changing directions. We move, we leave, and maybe we come back and maybe we don’t. It’s just the way life goes. But even though I feel like I’m getting old, I still feel way too young to be thinking like this… I’m 20 not 30!

Sister Aaminah at writeous sister speaks has posted up the carnival. It’s w00 fabulous!! Lots of lovely submissions. I can’t wait to go through and read them all. This is my second carnival to participate in and I love ‘em! It’s like bloggers united.

===========================================================================
1. “LIBERATING” MUSLIM WOMEN [Part 1 of 2]
[By Dr. Mohamed Elmasry]
===========================================================================

Displayed on the poster was an image of a Muslim woman wearing a hijab,
accompanied by the words, “how can we liberate them?”

The poster was disturbing enough, but even more disturbing was the fact
that it was distributed all over Amsterdam in 2003 as a government public
service announcement.

Who’s looking for organic halal meat and who’s already buying it? Isn’t halal meat enough?

I have an article coming up, inshaAllah, and would love to hear your input. Just leave me a comment.

Mariya posted some pictures of the exhibit. It’s a mock cell to demonstrate what three members of the Toronto 18 have gone through.

Many of us may remember seeing his video on YouTube, a black and white production with an American Muslim woman sitting in front of the mirror. On one side of the mirror, she’s dressed in Hijab, and on other side she’s without it, as she “discusses” wearing Hijab. It is inspiring and true to the experiences of the Muslim woman and her veil. I sat down with director Farzad W. to discuss his inspiration for this video and the state of Muslims in the media.

Read the entire interview here.

This is a beautiful poem.

he stands alone
looking for a place to stay
there’s a slight feeling
that he’s being watched
guide or ghoul, he doesn’t know

there are doors around him
and a hundred keys in his pocket
he doesn’t know, he’s confused

he hasn’t slept in weeks
the eyes won’t close
the questions demand answers
the brain refuses to not think

faith, he forces the word to his lips
where will he be tomorrow
what the hell was he thinking

every word, move, and prayer is a risk
the prayers might be the wrong ones
the moves might be unwise
the words might be foolish

what do i want
where do i want to be
why am i not there yet

it is time to pray Maghrib
turba in place, Allahu akbar
Bismillah

All praise is to G-
try again
All praise is to G-
come ON!
All praise is to G-

he can’t, he just can’t
he falls to the floor
and sobs in prostration

please help me

I didn’t know about this.