The Wire

 gave you all I had I gave you my heart I gave you my life I gave you my soul I gave you my happiness I gave you my tears I gave you my hope And I gave you even  more But what did you give me? You gave me pain You gave me shame You gave me heartache You gave me burdens to carry You gave me loss You gave me lies You wrapped me with defeat You surrounded me with evil And then you vanished. And now I've grieved I've shed so many tears I've felt my heart shudder I've felt my body age I've felt my heart harden I have only one more space,  A space left unfilled A space filled with fear I'm afraid because of you The space I have is small but true I need truth. The one above,  only he knows I trust in him and him alone He is the judger of all judges Some day he will catch up with you It will be a day of great truth All my tears and heartache, They will wrap around you, And shake you in a fury,  And spread pain in every corner of your body, He will spread it to yo...

This week I had the honor of learning more about a new Non profit organization still in its early stages yet has been successful beyond words; this charity is called Project Akhirah. A very close friend and sister of mine, Amina Farah, first reached out to me to discuss Project Akhirah and her volunteer work with this incredible organization. Project Akhirah is very new and thriving and looking to get the word out of what their organization wishes to accomplish. I decided why not write a blog! I’m always looking for reasons to sit back and type away. Project Akhirah is a Non profit organization set up in 2013 by a group of young Muslimahs’ in hopes of making a difference in the lives of the less fortunate, those whose lives are laden with poverty and suffering.  However each of the girls were personally affected by the crisis in Syria in particular and felt it a responsibility to help towards this cause. As a group they had made pledges to raise enough funds to donate to the ...

You are as strong as the northwest winds yet tame as an early morning sunset creeping up in all corners of the world in the soft sensual way that you do.  When I watch you raise your beauty towards the skies I feel this innate sense of comfort spreading towards the deepest embers of my soul.  You put a smile on my face and the comfort of all comforts in my heart. But when pain suspends upon me in the deepest ways wounding me to a plane of never-ending infinity what am I to do? What do you expect me to do? I seem to be swaying senselessly in between different doors on different planes different from anything on this universe.   When I finally catch a glimpse of you and what is buried deep within this tree of passion I am completely and utterly dumbfounded.  Which plane do I hold my ground on? Which door of destiny must I cast my shadow through? Will I ever hear the much awaited whisper in the winds or shall I do what I always do? Shall I begin a new path? Or ...

Hello to all my readers. This blog post will be a tad bit different compared to my normal ones as it’s not fiction! The other day I was online checking out the photography page of a very talented photographer and I felt compelled to write a review of his business. Recently, July 2012 to be exact,  I attended a friend’s wedding and like all weddings there was a lot going on. One of the most important logistics of a wedding is having an exceptional photographer. I’m sure you can all agree on how endearing it is to capture the special moments on our very special day to treasure for the rest of our lives. Having a collection of these moments to look back on is absolutely priceless and even more so when the emotions taking place speak out through the images. Unfortunately not all photographers are gifted with this art; however I must say Photographer Amin Islam does an impeccable job in emulating this feat. The wedding photographer at the wedding, Amin Islam, seemed to know exact...

idden truths I try to bury it deep within the library of memories I keep filed away, in an effort to shield myself from the pain which gnaws at me time and time again, but I hopelessly fail. The need to look over my shoulder is crucial. One lost look and it will eat into the deep embers of my soul. When I am reminded an incomplete smile forms around the corners of my mouth before my face contorts and small drops of tears begin to fall down my downtrodden facade. I say downtrodden because the memories are as sweet as honey and yet bitter as a glass of lemonade on a hot summers day. Night Over head the rain drops form their own rhythm on the tin roof while outside in the courtyard the squishing of mud by the feet of rushed servants begins another. This song was the perfect lullaby, but my eyes would not give into temptation. The guests were outside scrambling for whatever shelter they could find from the splash of monsoon rains. I sat as upright as I possibly could but it was get...

The international community is concerned with consuming the highest degree of political and economical power as possible. Or they’re having a competition over who has the greatest Nuclear program at hand or which Palestinian refugee is climbing over some stupid wall, put up by a bunch of inhumane cold blooded rejects, to enter his OWN land. But they ignore the real issues at hand. There’s a disease right now that’s spreading at a very fast pace and this illness will most probably decimate the future of our world. Innocent children are being stripped of their childhoods and forced to work when they should be sitting in classrooms enjoying the fountain of knowledge. These children are our future; they are the next presidents, doctors, innovators, human rights activists who will someday change the lives of the generations before them and the ones to come. The practice of illegal child labour is widely practiced in Nepal, they’re known as Kamalaris, children forced into labour at young ...

If and when she mentions how she’s bored and would like to return to work her husband casts a disapproving look towards her and changes the subject or tells her she has no time to work.  He asks who will cook his dinner, who will serve his dinner, who will starch and iron his shirts, and who will do the housework.  When she says she can do it ALL and work, he tells her this is her job, taking care of the house and his needs...Load of Bs....I know Soon after she starts popping kids and then it’s all downhill... Some time down the road, after a few kids, this Stepford wife realizes she has no identity for herself, years have been wasted on a MAN, and she begins to resent him.  Now she has three roads to travel down, either she continues with life as it is or puts her foot down and begins to create her own identity outside the house or arguments develop, resentment deepens and the marriage ends..... Some of you might think a few of my descriptions are over the t...