Tag Archives: Fajr prayer

A Movie 🎥 to Watch

Today during Fajr Prayers I was snoozing — despicable! Isn’t it?

The alarm rang, but I didn’t get up. Thankfully Son saved me from hell, and damnation. Seeing no light under my door 🚪, he rapped at it, and asked, “Mama! Have you said your prayer?”

“No”, I bolted from bed, and rushed to the bathroom. If he had not woken me, I would have missed my prayer.

I had a late night — result of seeing a movie. After my walk, I washed the dishes, and tidied up the kitchen after removing the last remnants of our evening meal. I sat down to enjoy my huge bowl of ice cream, and watch the movie Nola (my daughter) had recommended.

Before Son had gone to sleep 💤, I had remembered to ask him for the password. Son had changed the password the past week, and forgot to tell me. For the past few months I had not bothered to watch any movies on Netflix.

A night earlier I couldn’t sleep. I switched on Netflix on my iPhone 📱. I could only see the locked sign of a 🔑 on every show, and movie. I couldn’t go, and wake up Son as he had to get early to his job. I had meant to ask him when he returned, but forgot. Anyway for this movie I signed in with the new password. My name appeared on the screen of my IPad for me to unlock.

It’s a light hearted movie —- definitely a chicks flick, different from the usual run of movies. It has been adapted from from a book by the same name. All is well that ends well.

Above My Feet


My room in the new place is a cramped one. There is hardly any space to move in it. To open the sliding doors for getting fresh air inside my room (I’m apt to do it at least twice, or thrice a day), I have to scrape my legs between the bed, and sofa. Why Son had the brilliant idea (without asking me first) of moving the two seater into my room? I’ve no idea, but it has certainly made me mad at him.

After Fajr prayer I usually read two pages from the Quran, duas, and then try to memorize a few Ayats till it’s time for the Ishraq prayer. The Quran lies on top of my dresser. It’s handy there. When I finish with my prayers, it’s near. The thing is the dresser is towards the foot of my bed. Technically my feet are much lower, and the Quran is really above. When I lie on the bed, my feet face the dresser, so I worry about being disrespectful.


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IB (grandson) had come after his usual period, a visit to his father every two weeks, coming in the evening on Friday, and going back Sunday evening. He is going lax, not saying his prayers, with no father at home to enforce rules since Son’s divorce last year. IB doesn’t gets up for his morning prayer. He says he no longer does it at home.

Son’s goes the easy way out — leave the unwelcome task of waking up IB (make him say his prayers) to mother, as left to her she will take care of it. Son himself rushes to the mosque near by.

Here is what happened the first time Grandma (that’s me) goes for the attack. She doesn’t want to be a bad guy enforcing rules, and such things. She would like to be a sweet person in the grand children’s memories (sigh), but what can she do?

I dawdle every step on the way to IB’s bed, and try to wake him. Nothing much happens. I go back to my room to complete my prayer, which I had partly done, as the white thread in the sky is slipping over the black one, and time for the Fajr (morn) prayer will soon be over. I feel guilty over my failure before God, while I say my own prayer.

The second time: Son as usual rushes out, on his way to the mosque calling, “Mama please wake IB so that he should say his Fajr prayer”.

This time Grandma has worked out a strategy. “IB please wake up”.

No movement.

I wait for a while, “Please hurry, the prayer time is getting over”.

No movement still.

Okay, I finally say, “If you’re not going to say your prayer, I’m confiscating your IPad for the whole day”.

IB gets up, goes to the washroom to wash his face, arms, and feet, in preparation for the prayer, gets back on the prayer mat, and the morn prayer is offered to the One God in whom our belief exists.



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As I was covering my head with a dopatta to say my Fajr prayer, my grandson Sn called me. He wanted me to come and see something in the bathroom. He told me to look into the mirror. “No look up near to the ceiling”. 

I had woken both Sn, and IB to do their wadu, and say their prayers. IB was standing near the door waiting for his turn, and now both wanted me to kill the insect Sn showed me. I brought a chair from the dinning area. Climbing onto it I caught the offending insect into a tissue, and after flunging it into the toilet bowl, I flushed him. The coast was now clear for them to use the bathroom.

Sn is the same child who could catch frogs, and lizards in bare hands, and now nearly grownup he won’t remove an insect. It’s astonishing how children change!



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While in Peshawar, I kept seeing my late husband in vivid dreams. After months of absences, suddenly he kept appearing almost every night. In the beginning I would forget the dreams once I woke up, but there was a strange sequence to them.

In all of them he looked annoyed. Previously in my few dreams (since he died), I always saw him smiling, talking in the background to other people. He never spoke to me directly except for one time. (I wrote about it in the beginning of my blogs).

Coming back to the recurring dreams he stopped facing me. He stood with his back towards me, all the time radiating his annoyance. I couldn’t fathom the cause. I had paid a visit to his grave after reaching Peshawar along with my daughter. Had given alms in his name. Held Quran Khawani for him, and distributed food in his name. I couldn’t find any wrong.

And then it dawned on me. Due to shortage of time in the morning, I had stopped saying my duas for him after my Fajr prayers. 


 May God Bless him. Ameen.



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A Soul Rejoices

I am answering yesterday’s prompt.

I was deadbeat yesterday. I reached my bed (the previous night) at 2.30 am (preparations for food). Got up at 5.10 to answer the Fajr Prayer, then headed towards the kitchen to resume what further needed to be done.

I made two sweet dishes, so that the ladies had a choice. In between I managed to make breakfast too. Then prepared a huge bowl of salad. The chicken pieces which I had coated with my special mixture (a day before), I put them in the oven to bake. Last item left was Chinese fried rice. It was to go with Gen Tsao chicken which I had done a day earlier. 

For the past many years when it was my turn to invite someone for food, I managed by inviting them to a restaurant. Yesterday was really an uphill task by doing the cooking myself. It would have looked odd inviting people to a restaurant for a reading of the Quran.

I am glad I held the rememberance for my (late) husband. I was afraid I may not be able to manage.

All that food doesn’t reach a soul. When people gather to read God’s Book, Angels come, and watch. They go, and tell the dead person’s soul, “your ……… did this, and sent God’s Blessings on you”.

And the soul rejoices. 


Game of Groans

Think about an object, an activity, or a cultural phenomenon you really don’t like. Now write a post (tongue in cheek or not — your call!) about why it’s the best thing ever.