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All posts for the month July, 2014

MY ORPHANED JOURNEY..-PART 2/2-POST 21

Published July 30, 2014 by katysoqewl

DEAR READERS THIS IS A BONUS POST… HOPE YOU ENJOY IT 

I placed it in my apron pocket and brushing aside a tear that fell due to the oblivion of someone being affectionate to me, I continued with my daily errands.

The familiar bell rang and “Tyrant” yelled for me to get back to the basement. Seated in the place I now call “home”, the vault door opened. The time was odd and I feared the worst. I hastily climbed up to find a women about 10 years my elder yet radiantly beautiful.

Seeing a “WOMEN” after 8 years, created a spark in my now grey eyes. The familiar “THUD WALKING” of my nightmare executer was heard behind me. I turned around out of fear and as my entire body began to shiver, my heart began to race. Our eyes were locked. His words were as if out of one of my dreams. “You free to go Leeya, I know I have oppressed and hurt you… but I’m sorry!!” he murmured as his eyes turned from a furious black to a more subtle brown. Handing me the keys to his car and a cheque book with written out cheques, he embraced me. My tears surged forth as my face laid on my “DADS” shoulder and his arms were wrapped around me. Turning to the “MYSTERY WOMEN” she said in a voice of a nightingale, “You can call me mummy!”

That very afternoon, my mum and I went shopping and as we drove, the sun peered over the grey clouds. My bedtime story that night was the storyline of how she had come into my dad’s life and altered it for the better. As I got my goodnight kisses, I praised the almighty, smiled a heartfelt smile and wondered about the infinite wisdom of how yesterdays dreams is today’s reality….

 

“Verily, After difficulty comes ease…”

 

SHOPPING.....

SHOPPING…..

RAMADHAAN

Published July 29, 2014 by katysoqewl

Ramadhaan poem Now that ramadhaan is over Lets not turn to the four leaf clover Now that the shayateen are free Abstain from wrong, it is plea Lets not succumb to our desire Or we be labelled a liar Lets not  go back to our old ways For in the past is where that stays Ramadhaan should have changed us all And not had made our imaan fall If weak is the state if your heart Then indeed, you have not mastered this art Your imaan should be so strong For the next 11 months, it should prevent any wrong But, if you this past month were from amongst the wrong doers Then indeed you are categorised with the losers May allah grant us the strength to pursue The good deeds, even if it be few May he grant us reward So that the ship to Jannah we all may board – Khadija Mansoor   – YOUR SISTER IN ISLAM

AUTHORS NOTE

Published July 27, 2014 by katysoqewl

ASALAMUALAYKUM TO MY ESTEEMED READERS. I CAN’T REACH OUT TO EVERY ONE OF YOU PHYSICALLY, BUT I DO HOPE THIS MESSAGE REACHES EVERYONE.

I WISH YOU A BLESSED EID TO BE ENJOYED BY YOU AND YOUR LOVED ONES. MAY THIS DAY BE FILLED WITH ABUNDANCE OF JOY AND MAY IT BE ONE FILLED WITH MEMORIES TO BE TREASURED DEARLY

EID MUBARAK!!!!!!

 

– YOUR SISTER IN ISLAM

MY ORPHANED JOURNEY..-PART 1/2- POST 20

Published July 27, 2014 by katysoqewl

The bell rang, the lock opened and the rope dropped. Peasantry dressed, I climbed the rope with my cracked palms.

“Steak, chops, chips and make sure it is finely cut. Falooda, jelly and passion fruit!!” barked the cruel cold voice of my step-father. My mum had passed on years ago, when I was but 8 years of age. Aged beyond my years, I am 16 years old.

Locked in a basement 22 hours a day with dirt floors, no windows and the kind of eerie atmosphere that gets to your heart, I had become depressed, lonely and my self-esteem had reached rock bottom. With prayers my only form of solitude or comfort, I prayed day in and day out. Whether the sun shown or the grey clouds shadowed, it made no difference to my dull day.

Surviving on dry bread, water that was collected from the local river and an occasional “treat”, butter, I took out my days.

Today, as I awoke, made wudhu with cold water despite the fact that it was -2 degrees outside, I performed my Tahajjud salaah on the hard cement, but as I prayed my second sajdah, I felt a connection between my creator and I. A gut feeling told me that today would be the end of my pain and that the sun would shine brighter than it did in 8 years. Salaam to my right& then my left ended my morning supplication.

My circumstances had never changed my love and trust in the creator, but the sequence of events the last months had held, had shaken my faith.

Going about my day as usual. Scrubbing, cleaning, cooking and being hauled at, I took my hands out of the dishwasher. The doorbell rang and I hurried to answer it. I opened the door and on the porch stood a boy of about 4/5 years of age with the most angelic smile and a message that went straight to my heart,” I just wanted to tell you how much god loves you and that you must have a splendid eid.” He handed me a card with a rose and as this angel disappeared back into the cold, I shut the door and read every word of the card. It was the sweetest thing ever. There was a picture of a rose and under it, in bold childish letters was carefully printed,” a Rose picked just for you.”

 

THE RED ROSE....

THE RED ROSE….

 

– YOUR SISTER IN ISLAM

MY STORY OF TURMOIL&THEN BLISS-PART 3/3 POST 19

Published July 26, 2014 by katysoqewl

My dad turned away shamefully and headed for the car, while my mum hurried after him. I stood there, as the happenings of that night played like a movie before my eyes. Brushing aside tears, I made my way to the car. The journey home held no conversation just silence. It was occasionally broken by the ringing of Uncle Johannes’s phone. On arrival home, my parents proceeded to the confines of their room while I sat in the namaaz room, crying my heart out. The door was opened and my mum walked in. Seated next to her, I told her the horrendous events of that night.

She read an aayat of the qur’aan and left. Feeling as though she had turned on me, I turned towards the almighty. After all my parents did to raise a good and pious child, I had faltered. I had disappointed… the bright day had all of a sudden turned a black-grey as lighting belched. I dazed off but was woken by the ringing of the house phone. Making my way to the hall slowly, I thought the ringing would stop, but it only carried on.

IT WAS DOCTOR FATIMA

“Asalamualaykum, can I please speak to Ms. Karim”

“Speaking!”

She had news that the test results were wrong and that I was AIDS free. With a new sense of excitement, I listened as she told me how they had mixed up the files. My heart leapt with joy as I thanked her, hung up and hurried to my parent’s room to tell them the news. Their excitement knew no bounds and Muhammad’s parents were contacted and informed about my decision

Muhammad could come propose….

Over the next two months, I with the help of my mum and a fellow psychologist managed to help me deal with that life scarring situation

Today 5 years later, a wife and a mother of 2, this poem has been engraved on my heart

“The life of one can be altered by desire

In matters of religion, should we never tire

And indeed, we will come out a sire”

 

THE NAMAAZ ROOM..

THE NAMAAZ ROOM..

 

MY PARENTS BEDROOM..

MY PARENTS BEDROOM..

 

– YOUR SISTER IN ISLAM

MY STORY OF TURMOIL& THEN BLISS-PART 2/3- POST 18

Published July 25, 2014 by katysoqewl

This was too much for me to bear and I tried to escape only to be assaulted by each and every one of them. Morning dawned and they allowed me to leave. Scarred for life, traumatized and anxiousness filled my aching soul. This was not supposed to happen!!! I should never have gone out in the first place. Using the same route I used to come, I returned home, jumped into bed and cried myself to sleep. I woke up hoping that all that had transpired was a nightmare, but alas it was reality. 09:00, aunty Mabus came into my room, asking me if I wanted breakfast. With tears still in my eyes, she enquired as to the reason behind my sorrow. Unable to provide a truthful answer, I stammered as I told her, “I had a bad nightmare!” Being the first time I lied about something in my life, I recalled a hadeeth reported my Abu Huraira,” the signs of a hypocrite are three: when he speaks he lies, when he makes a promise he breaks it and when he is entrusted with something he betrays the trust.” She comforted me, but I had other things on my mind…

Years passes and the incident remained a secret held between my Rabb & I. I had become withdrawn and prayed excessively. Then…. a proposal came home. The boy was fairly handsome, Islamic and we were compatible, so matrimony I was considering. A request from my dad to the boy made me jolt,” Please can you have an AIDS test done, just to ensure that no diseases are transmitted.” The boy’s family agreed and returned the request. I hadn’t considered this at all… What if…….. What if……

That day at the doctor’s practice, I stood in line. My mum noticed a worry in my eyes and comforted me with the following words, “there is no need to worry Ruqayya, a boy hasn’t even touched you and I’m sure Muhammad (my fiancé) is the same.” The qur’aanic aayat, “good women are for good men.” Appeared in my mind and it made my heart pound. Our turn came and the results were given to my dad in his hand, with a distraught look on his face, he handed the result sheet to my mum who shuddered then sobbed. My heart was bursting with remorse and regret as I saw the paper

AIDS- POSITIVE

 

MY BEDROOM...

MY BEDROOM…

 

AIDS!!!!!

AIDS!!!!!

 

– YOUR SISTER IN ISLAM

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