Tag Archives: Memory

My Trials of Tajweed

It was last year when Nola (daughter) suggested that I should take Tajweed classes, to take steps for the betterment of my Akhira. Akhirah is the term used in Islam to describe the belief in everlasting life after death. Muslims regard life on Earth as a test from Allah, to prepare them for eternal life. Importantly, though, Muslims believe that Allah will not test them beyond their limits.

Better late than never I had to decide to learn the proper way to recite the Quran. It should be understood that the Quran is originally in Arabic. All over the world people like me (if they want) learn to read it the proper way.

My daughter gave me a number to call. The lady didn’t respond. Nola then talked to someone else on my behalf. After a few days lapse this one replied. Nola put me on the phone. Days went by waiting if the lady would add me to her Tajweed class. Nothing happened.

I decided to call my present teacher Gul who lives in Saudi Arabia. Every year I join in for her Dora Quran during Ramadan. I asked her if she could teach me Tajweed. She agreed, and so my days of struggle began. It is a Herculean effort to learn the proper way to pronounce the written words of Quran.

In front of camera, with the teacher watching me, my brain would get addled. From which area of the mouth, or throat the letter should come out, my 🧠 would decide to go fuzzy. Whatever I had memorized would altogether disappear into the realms of stratosphere, leaving me with complete loss of memory. Shamefaced I would stutter. I was feeling a complete failure thinking maybe I should give up. I developed a low opinion of myself, coming to the conclusion that I was a dimwit.

Prior to the beginning of the past Ramadan the teacher was having an acute shortage of time, so she decided to take the Tajweed class of all the participants at the same time. My opinion of myself took a one eighty degree turn. Masha’Allah! After listening to the others, I wasn’t the complete failure I thought myself to be.

I’m in complete awe of those who are reverts. How do they manage?


I take a stroll through memory’s lane

Looking at the bits and pieces of my life

Some were better, some were best

In between were the gloomier patches of my life

With sorrow I remember my husband by my side

Though he has departed to another life

My children! God bless them are gems like no one

They are the shinning, bright side of my life

I feel gratitude, and humbled before God

I hope I reach a good end, at the other side of life




Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt. 


Fog Over Mind

The fog takes over, slowly spreading 

Memory becomes fuzzy, the images recede

Disappearing into the fast moving mist

I stare at the person beside me

Trying to remember

Who are you? I silently ask




Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.


You and Me

Let’s snap a picture of you and me

Will create a loving image of this day

Whenever I will have time to sneak a look at it

The memory of this day will surge back to me

It will make me happy despite the pain of loss

We are no longer together, you and me





Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.


You Think You Have Time

Our time on earth is limited

It doesn’t wait for anyone

Seconds passes into minutes

And minutes into hours

The day no longer remains

All that remains is a memory

This is my attempt at a quote and poem challenge from Gwenice http://thechaserofdreams.wordpress.com

Thank you Gwenice for nominating me for the challenge. Sorry I am just taking part for one day. Hope you won’t mind.

Anyone wanting to take part? Please feel invited to do so.

All Over Again

Daily Prompt: Zoltar’s Revenge
In a reversal of Big, the Tom Hanks classic from the 80’s, your adult self is suddenly locked in the body of a 12- year old kid. How do you survive your first day back in school?


I don’t want to face the dreaded Maths in Grade 7th again, and back to Miss Bano ………… No way. I don’t like torturing myself even thinking about it.

Here is an account of my first day at school. I am sure that many among you must have written “First day at school” many times over.

Father was busy. He told my elder brother Lala to take me to school. Lala filled the school forms. I wasn’t aware that he was going to leave me behind. He took me in front of my class room. When he tried to leave I started crying. I clung to him, and refused to let him go. Meanwhile he kept trying to get himself disengaged from me.

A Sister came, and held me. I kept on crying while my brother left. Those children who were veterans (of school) by now gathered round me to make fun, and laugh at my crying.

I don’t remember how the rest of the day passed. One memory is drawing rabbits and cats. The other one is of a teacher teaching me 1-10 on seeds.


I’m in a Fog

Daily Prompt: Writer’s Block Party
When was the last time you experienced writer’s block? What do you think brought it about — and how did you dig your way out of it?


I experience it daily. I try to escape from its clutches, but it takes over. It envelopes my mind, and it covers up with fog. I stare at my notebook vacantly. What to write?

Sometimes a thought, or an idea forms, but then it recedes as quickly as it comes. It glimmers in the dim recesses of my mind, then disappears leaving me trying to clutch at it ineffectually. I try recalling it, but I am helpless.

The reasons?

There are too many: short term memory, being easily distracted, lack of concentration, remembering words and images, confusion, focusing, word recall, not well, anxiety.

I put aside writing. Wait for the fog to lift. I distract myself with other things.

I’m in a Fog


Daily Prompt: Simply the Best
When and where do you do your best thinking? In the bathroom? While running? Just before bed, or first thing in the morning? On the bus? Why do you think that is?


Simply I don’t know. It can be anywhere.

Maybe I am sitting in the bathroom, when my mind re awakes from it’s slumber and ideas start shooting out. In moments like those I do wish for a writing pad and a pen close by. It is specially true about poetry. The perfect lines and stanzas are forgotten. By the time I have brushed my teeth, washed my face, all ideas fizzle out leaving me with a blank mind. It’s no use raking my brain. Nothing is there except emptiness.

I do suffer from a problem. My memory has sieves actually. Everything drains out leaving me blank. It comes and goes. I do feel thankful when my memory works.

I am talking to someone having a clear idea on what I am talking about, then suddenly “whoosh” I stumble and mumble, “Sorry, I forgot what I was saying.”

Same is writing. If I wrote down what my thoughts were at that moment in time, I can look up. Otherwise I am at a loss at what to write.

Early morning is the best time for a think, when I wake up and had restful sleep. Sometimes I am running against time and can’t write. My brain ties itself in knots, making me flounder and trying to reach out.