It’s Just Love

I met her 8 years ago, and even back then I knew there was something distinct about her, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it. It could have been her eyes that spoke with greater intensity than her voice ever did, or it could have been her gait, which was not one of a person who thought highly of their self, nor of one who was subdued; it was one of a person who knew they are from clay, just as everyone else is.

There was a magnificent magnet that drew me to her, and I love basking in her company whether she speaks a lot or says absolutely nothing at all. And the beautiful irony is that her name translates to mean hope, a feeling that transpires from her whenever I think my tests are overwhelming.

It’s just love for the sake of our Creator that bonded me to her, and causes me to return to her company when I’ve drifted away… again, and again.

No Smoke Without Fire

Life. The word alone when uttered seems calm and collected, but mine hasn’t always been so. I’ve always been on the go, busying myself with one activity or the other, worrying about what to do next. And to be able to breathe the word ‘life‘ is such a luxury.

The fast-paced setting that so many of us reside in leaves very little room for us to sit down and reflect. The abilities of shiny gadgets wow us, and all things fast catch our eyes, but when lights are dimmed and voices are hushed, sunsets still stir even the busiest of us to tears.

What is it about nature that has this profound effect on humankind? One could conjure several conclusions, but for me, the most succinct is that it’s our body’s way to draw our attention to a greater force present in our lives.

Being an urban girl, I saw very little grass as a child; granted, there were trees and laid lawns, but vast expanses of grass, marshes or meadows just wasn’t present. You can only imagine the first time I saw a grass field on a trip out of London in my adolescent years. Amazing doesn’t even come close to describe the beauty displayed in the immense crisp green space that stretched as far as the horizon allowed. I’d never seen anything like it before, and the way my heart beat still remains unexplainable. I caught myself breathing slower, and placed a hand over my chest and thought, “He did this”. Could it have been anyone but Him?

Nature has always been something that amazed me since then: How flowers bloomed like clockwork each and every year, how trees flowered before they fruited and even the human body continues to astonish me. A splinter reminded me of just how weak I am – when I removed the sliver of wood from my finger tip I could not help laughing at just how helpless I was moments before. But what truly sends shivers down my spine is the heart.

As humans we have control over several aspects of our lives and what we choose to ingest, yet the heart is an organ that is the very centre of our being that we have absolute no domination over. Who commands it to beat, and once a person’s time on earth has reached its limit, who commands it to stop? When we hear of deaths we expect to hear of a murder, a stabbing or a road accident, but more often than not it’s the body’s organ’s hastening to the command of its Fashioner to simply stop.

To discount the presence of a Creator and Fashioner who made it normal for us to have pairs of body parts rather than more is akin to discounting one’s own existence.

When you see a sunset that strikes a chord in your heart, or you witness a moonrise that draws involuntary tears from your eyes, it’s your body’s reaction to the creation of its Creator, and what’s left is for you to align your natural inclinations with your mind and heart.

Blog Cull

Welcome, welcome. Yes, you are on the right page… it’s Umm Junayd’s blog. There is no need to click links to confirm, this really is my blog.

I know, it’s looking rather empty, and in all honesty it reflects how I’m feeling right now. I needed a new start. 6 years worth of posts have been removed to start my blog writing journey over in ‘10. I haven’t got the faintest idea how it’s going to turn out, but I’ve decided to be true to myself, and be true to you – my readers – so what you see will be truly me.

Here’s a little something I can leave you with.

Mirrored Dreams

It was picturesque
perfectly painted dreams
where
clouds of happiness
hung afar and near
that reflection
that she saw
in the world of
her closed eyes
where
everything was just
perfect
her eyelids opened
they shattered
every ounce of
the frame
every shimmer
of brightness
that she’d seen
they shattered
and the pain
stemmed from
the impossibility
of collecting the shards
as the mirror of her
dreams
evaporated
never to be seen
again.

© Umm Junayd, March 2010.