Tag Archives: prayer


I have seen you on the prayer mat

Bowing down to our God

Yet learnt you lie so blatantly

In total disregard

Of what’s true, and what did happen

The truth between us all

You forget the angels writing

Of what did befall

Your hatred, and maliciousness

Severed the ties that held us close

They are shredded, and beyond repair

With wickedness you pose

Lies, and deceit spread their poison forever

With broken spirit I won’t trust

The likes of you never


I wrote this poem a year, or two earlier, but have forgotten the date. I had posted it on my blog.


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My long term memory has gone for sixes. The short one remains really short. It has always been a difficulty. My late husband was always annoyed with my handicap. He thought I did it on purpose, because sometimes my memory works, at other times it doesn’t. I do try to memorize. A common word can slip my memory, whereas I’m trying to locate, and it tries to elude me.

It happens all the time like last night. Within minutes I had forgotten the movie’s name I was watching on Netflix. There has been no cable since Hurricane Harvey paid us a visit. I got extremely bored after the absence of cable. Fortunately our Internet works. I finally juggled through the various remote controllers with Son’s guidance to settle on a movie.

Son came back from the mosque after saying his night prayer, and asked whether I wanted to go for a walk. I did because of the unending rains I hadn’t been out the whole week. A thought was prevalent in my mind that God forbid the end was near, and we were having a repeat of rain plus floods from the times of Prophet Noah.

I put the movie on pause, and scrambled to get my shoes. During the walk, Son asked for the movie’s name. I told him that it was a good movie, but I didn’t remember the name. See that’s how long my memory is!

Aug 31, 2017



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It was eerily quiet. Lights were on, but no one in sight. My late husband was away, and  my eight year old daughter and I were on our own. Strangely it looked like our servants had gone somewhere else. 

Telling Nola to stay in one place, I tried to find out why no one was at home. I looked all around outside, but mysteriously everyone had disappeared. I came back to where I had left Nola — she wasn’t there. Now where could she go? With heart full of anxiety, and eyes brimming with tears, I kept calling my daughter. 

I searched my home, inside and outside, it seemed Nola had disappeared too. Crying, I ran outside to find my daughter. Suddenly I got the feeling I was the next target, and I had to flee. I felt desperate, hopeless and didn’t know what to do? With grief stricken heart at the loss of my daughter I ran trying to hide behind bushes, and trees on the way. I could hear them calling each other, as they searched for me. I kept praying to God, as I evaded them.

With tears running down my face, I woke up. It was a bad dream. The call of muezzin calling to morning prayer had begun. With heart full of relief, I stood on the prayer mat to say my prayers.




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Two Right Feet
by Ben Huberman
What are the things you need to do within 30 minutes of waking up to ensure your day gets off on the right foot? What happened the last time you didn’t do one of these things?

At beginning of a morn, I get up and pray
It’s the same thing I do at the end of a day

My first thing in the morning is to get up for Fajr (morning prayer). I rarely miss saying it. Before I sleep, I set up an alarm to wake me up at the required time.

The last time I missed it was about five years back. My (late) husband R, and I had gone to the village to attend a relative’s marriage. After attending the first day function, I got to my home in the evening.

Our home in the village remained closed, and shuttered till we went there for a night or two. It would collect dust massively. It is, and was a nightmare to clean. My greatest obstacle was the load shedding. With no electricity I couldn’t use the vacuum cleaner. Sometimes the watchman (we had employed for the village home) would forget to fill the water tank (for wee hours the electricity would come, and go) —there wouldn’t be any water for washing, or any other purpose.

In between my bouts of cleaning, I managed to give R his evening tea, and later on meals. I washed the dishes, and give the kitchen a good scrub too. R went to sleep, and I continued with cleaning till the electricity went off at 12p.m. I lighted a candle, and went to shower to remove the dust, and grime. I said my night prayer, before I went to sleep. By then, it was 1.30 am.
I was bone tired, and sleepy, and forgot the alarm.

I was jolted into awakening by R, when he asked for tea. I realized that I had missed my prayer. That day my husband, and I had a disagreement over something which morphed into a huge spat. I was miserable the whole day, and I didn’t enjoy the wedding festivities.

I feel blessed, and at peace after going through my Fajr Salah (prayer). Angels surround us at the time of praying to God, and we feel peace, and calmness in our hearts.


That’s What I Dread

Pens and Pencils
by Ben Huberman
When was the last time you wrote something substantive — a letter, a story, a journal entry, etc. — by hand? Could you ever imagine returning to a pre-keyboard era?

Image Credit: Google

My writing:

Sometimes deciphering, what I wrote, and said
It’s really hard (even for me) that’s what I dread

Once I volunteered for a friend I had
To write down a special prayer by hand

She asked me not to write it
For she would only misread

I felt embarrassment
My face did get red

I ended up not doing it
For my PC was all dead


Give Thanks

Daily Prompt: From the Top
Today, write about any topic you feel like — but you must reuse your opening line (at least) two more times in the course of your post.


Thank you Allah for a peaceful day.

Theses are words often said by my son S at the end of a day. I don’t know in which world I exist. They would pass over my head. I would say a perfunctory repeat “Thank you Allah”, and that would be that.

Yesterday night while retracing our steps back home after our walk, he again said with a sigh “Thank you Allah for the end of a peaceful day”, I was reminded that I never say this. Then and there I resolved with myself that I will give thanks to God at the end of a day.

During the day from morning till night I do give thanks to God for various things. I had never given thanks for a peaceful day. It is a reprieve from God which we don’t realize.

Give Thanks

While they are there

Daily Prompt: Sleepy Time
More and more of us go to bed too late because of sleep procrastination. What are the nighttime rituals that keep you up before finally dozing off?


At the end of a day going to sleep

Is a big hurdle I do declare

I have to wash and clean

Before to bed I repair

You know who take their blessed time

iPhones keep them busy while they are there

They take their time while I do wait

What I do is doze in the armchair

Hurrah! The wait is over my turn comes

Though I am annoyed I forebear

Wash my face do ablution

Now what I do is say Isha prayer

Finally breath a sigh of relief and lie on my bed

But it’s twelve already to my despair

While they are there

To Banish Blues

Daily Prompt: Make Me Smile
If you’re feeling blah, what is the one thing you do that you can count on to put a smile on your face?


When my husband R was alive, the first thing I did was to tell him about any problem I was facing. Most of the time, I wasn’t even aware of a problem. He liked to shield me of worries. The first day of his death and burial, was shock and crying. The second day was the realization that I had to face the world on my own, and that I was alone and defence less.

I take God as my friend. I talk to him, when things go wrong, and I ask Him for help. A quick prayer to Him soothes me.

I immerse myself in a book. Nowadays I read light fiction with happy endings. I stay clear of murders or intrigue stories. I forget my own difficulties, and get lost in the book. I get a respite.

I call my daughter. Nola is a very level headed person. She doesn’t get fazed easily. She looks for solutions. After talking to her, the acceptance comes, and the feelings of panic subsides.

I lie down to sleep. When I wake up, I am refreshed. The situation doesn’t seems that threatening. The sleep clears up my head.

Find something light on Netflix and the movie makes me forget my problem for a while.

This is sweet and funny on YouTube. I hope the link works.

To Banish Blues

Learning The Quran

Before learning the Quran, a person has to start with a preliminary book called the Qaida. This has the Arabic alphabets (28 in all) plus the different shapes of the alphabets when they are joined. A religious teacher makes you learn their different sounds. After finishing the Qaida, you start with the Quran.

Normally, parents start with their children at an early age. They hire a teacher who can come and spend time with the child to make him or her learn. Now times are different. It’s easy to connect to a teacher via internet. My learning started at the age of three. A maid servant would accompany me to a nearby mosque. My lessons were thrice a week. I used to dread going there. The moulvi sahib (religious teacher) would be punishing boys left and right (I was the only girl there). Though he was never harsh with me, it was scary for me. Fortunately, my father got posted from that area so my learning came to a stop.

After a longer period, I started again with a lady teacher. My mother would send me to her house twice a week. This lady was a smiling sort of a woman. I don’t think I learnt a great deal from her. After my mother died and I shifted from uncle’s house to live with my father, my school started. Father hired another moulvi sahib to come in the evenings daily, except for weekends. I would be tired from school and homework, and there would come the moulvi sahib. I resented him a lot. Why? Because he would make me recite the Holy Book over and over (there was no escape from it) and my elder brother Lala would go scot free after a few minutes of his lessons. I would be sitting for hours on end (to me the time looked endless) and wanting to go and play.

One day I got so fed up with my teacher I threw my sipara (one of the thirty parts of the Quran) down on the floor. It was a terrible thing to do. I expected dire punishment from him, but he calmly told me to pick it up and went on with the lesson. I don’t exactly remember when I finished learning the Quran. Perhaps I was about seven.

I was eleven when my father gave me a Quran with English translation by Abdullah Yusuf Ali as a gift. It was a marvelous gift. To this day, I have not seen a better translation. Before that, I did not know what was written as it was all in Arabic. Reading the Holy Book with translation opened its doors to me. My favorite time was reading the Quran after Fajr (morning prayers). Here, I confess sheepishly, I think as a child the stories fascinated me more than the religious aspect of it.

My childhood reading continued into adulthood. The Quran has always been my mentor, guiding me on the right path. Shukr Alhumdulillah (thanks and praise be to Allah) for giving me this Book. I would have been lost without it. Reading it has always been an uplifting experience for me. The Quran opens a person’s spiritual eyes. I always feel a sense of wonder,joy and elation. I feel truly blessed. There so many people who go through life unaware of what they are missing.