on the outside, i look like something you are itching to kill, because i have what you don’t. you should be thankful, but you don’t know. don’t worry; i must have regret enough for both of us.
i haven’t been as good as i can and should be lately. as good as i promiced myself to be. as good as i dream and desire to be. and if you don’t know what i mean by “dream” then you don’t know me at all. which is just as well. this blog is, afterall, anonymous.
HE has been amazingly patient with me. i have been ungratefully unbearable, blatently intolerable of late. if i had power over me, my fingers would no longer have the ability to swim gracefully over the keyboard right now… a long, long time ago. this quality of HIS is what leaves me speechless whenever i think about HIM. speechless here is a figure of speech (mind the pun); really, my eyes speak in tongues my heart plays to and my mind has long harboured.
I LOVE THEE… I COULD NEVER COUNT THE WAYS.
——————————————————————————————————————-
dear shallow world,
here’s my definition of physical beauty. something which, hour by every hour, gives new hope to an old expression and enlightens you with not only sensual pangs, but whims of stolen intelligent, meaningful moments.
yes, to me, even physical beauty must hum to its own poetic lullaby. otherwise, what i see is just a body. just a body, is all i see.
oh, and btw, i use the term beautiful here for men and women alike.
my list of “beautiful” men:
Russel Crowe
Heath Ledger
Zinidine Zidane
Mel Gibson
Eric Mabius
Dr. Greggory House (Hugh Laurie)
Jeremy Irons
Mr. Rochester (Toby Stephens, BBC Jane Eyre)
Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy (Matthew MacFadyen)
Hugh Jackman
Mr. Blonde (resevoir dogs)
John Cusack
Kevin Spacey
and others which i can’t think of right now. (NB: some of these guys i am not actually attracted to, i am attracted to someone they acted, e.g. mr. rochester, NOT toby stephens himself, and dr.house, NOT hugh laurie himself)
there is a clear pattern in guys i am attracted to; they must look as suavely immaculate in a 3 piece saville-row cut suit and they look carelessly comfortable stacking hay in a farm. they also have complicated personalities, with many a streak of primal, intense behaviour. they are usually someone misunderstood; you fall for the image they painstakingly cultivate so that no one can see through their defensive forts, into their inner soul and who they really are.
[note: i just realised i am talking about the personality of who i usually like, not the pesonality of these hollywood actors - i don't know theirs!]
deep brooding looks, chiseled faces (but more importantly bodies), an active enquiring mind – seen and experienced a thousands things and still doesn’t tirefrom learning the pathetic nature of humans – a face of countless expressions, lines and marks all around the body (and mind, and soul) that i could easily get lost in… ahhh!
i am well aware that the majority of these men are easily older than my father. i am also painfully aware that they are happily taken.
oh and btw, i realised that they are all white, and a high number of them are of british/australian/european descent. few americans. i guess i couldn’t find a famous somali i am attracted to that fits that bill! and i am not attracted to other afro-caribbeans. a few arabs gain my infatuations, but are not worthy of mention since you ca’t relate. in fact, i find it hard at all that anyone can grasp the above physical qualities.
just so you know, that doesn’t mean i don’t go whoring my eyes out on other attractive men. but i see them as a purely temporary sexual satisfaction (i’ll be honest!). the last of these to have any such mpact was mario cimarro )again, older than my father):
Mario Cimarro (pasion de gavinales)
of course there are more detailed and intricate pictures (should you choose to be of that nature!) but i won’t add to my sins by forcing you into becoming addicted to him. (no i am not jealous! what a rediculous thought!)
that means i don’t find brad pitt pretty. at all. nada, niet, NO. george clooney… bah! he’s every woman’s standard gentleman hottie; he’s ok, but i need more than charm.
and may be next time, if i am bored enough, i might discuss the girls!
you tell yourself, “right, i gotta do this, and that, and etc etc etc”.
you do the first thing, then u get satisfied… if you are consistently smart and determined, you may even finish the second. third? wow, you really are something! but it never happens such that you accomplish everything you would have liked to accomplish on that day.
hapens to me all the time. i persist though. i believe that perseverance can answer a lot of problems.
and say you are addicted to doing something that is nooooot reeeeaaaalllly veeeeerrrryyyy goooood, if at all.
you know the effect it has on others, besides yourself. so whaddya do? you hide it, of course.
you assume people are diots and they can never see through you and instantly recognise the actions you partook in, simply because when you did them, you were behind the comfort of four, stealthy walls.
it means no one saw you doing anything, right? does it also mean you are not subconsciously aware of what you are doing?
and that because you are not at all a bad person, really, deep down, you want to purify yourself… get back to the good ol’ times?!
in a way, the reason others know about it is because… you are telling them. not out loud, of course not. a look here, a nod there, a lost expression… picked up only by those in the know.
may be they were there before? no? may be…. they are the complete opposite and are trained to recognise an arch nemisis of there “pure” characteristics a mile away.
you know, for housekeeping purposes.
it always amazes me that it takes a single, and not even overly concentrated drop of ink to distort and pollute a glass of water. in contrast, it takes several more cups of water to rid the ink which lines the glass (notice lines? not even fills up, but lines and surrounds the cup’s inner layer?)
it’s always much easier to break, destroy, injure or mutilate something, even the simplest of things, than to fix it up.
much easier to FUCK up a jolly, well-done life.
so the solution?
simple.
DON’T FUCK UP!
steer well clear of things that you associate with a “fucked up” state of mind – people, sounds, books, sites, any fuck-up aiding agent – and immerse yourself into the “fix up” state, simply, by following opposing agents.
and i know it’s hard. believe me, NOTHING in life is for free.
but at least this way, the good eats the bad, and you are feeling muchas muchas muchas better.
time will heel it.
and since we are discussing time, why not jam-pack all the goody goody stuff u enjoy there too? and ones which your subconscious enjoys as well…
after all, we don’t want it seeping, drip-dropping your deepest darkest secrets, do we?
this way, you will humour it… and learn how to blackmail it.
how to ultimately control it, and the emotions that it may betray.
and once you train yourself, you’ll see… you’ve become a professional in no time.
and you’ll reap the benefits when you have a holiday.
whaddaya mean, whaddaya mean? of course everyone gets a holiday…
and while you are at it… make sure you have a smashing good time.
honest. do it for a week, even, and see the difference. go on…
try it.
ooooooh, and also try this vid.
gloriously delicious. i wish they would do a comeback.
so summer is gone. i know you’re all reading this thinking “we’re in frigging 27th of september and you’ve just discovered that summer’s gone?”. true. something is deeply wrong with me. but while i attend to this, consider that i had a 4mths and a half (i.e. + 2 wks) holiday.
*i pray to All Mighty Allah that none of u give me the evil eye*
having said that, it is worthy to note that nothing much has happened (check out my last post for an interesting-ish summary). and like i said before, i did miss u all like crazy. yes you. whaddya mean i don’t know you and you’ve stumbled across this?
i had a long time off, in which i could have scoured the whole globe and finished the whole Qur’aan (no , i really could have. serioulsy. you don’t know…) although perhaps not simultaneously.
i am now back to my career – and whatever people usually start doing this time of the year, apart from realising that they are probably in debt after returning home, from a few weeks holiday abroad, to a crazy-ass mortgage rise and a general rise in all things interest-based. alhamdulillah that i am muslim – and feel like i am different and this year is different. and that this time round, i will SMACK everyone, hand-down, when it comes to achievements.
like a rich, shallow idiot living in one of those curse-worthy villas in laguna beach (california? idk) i can only attest to the truth of this self-righteous conviction by saying (imagine a very dew-eyed, far awaylook and fists clenched upwards, shaking the upper torso) “i can feel it!”
a side note (this is usually some thought which bears no relation to the above and which randomly descends upon my mind): i officially declare jihad on politicians using the word “change” in their speeches. get a new record, the old one was scratched by obama. and no, i won’t vote conservative (ew! as if! just watch the first 15 secs). i always thought that lib-dems weere seriously underestimated. may be this year is there’s? idk… anyone know a political party which last won seats in the ice age but is cuter and more innocent?
(*cringe* is there such a thing in politics?) my head better shut up… i am writing as i am thinking (bad!)
anyway. so what’s this post about again? oh yeah! “real change” this year. “real change”! oh, comeon man! it’s more likely that i make “real change” (which will happen… like…. soon!) than politicians would (eheh… ehehehe…ehehehe… LMAO).
yes. i am on a high. and with that, i close. i leave you with a video very much explaining how i am feeling now.
fee qaryati toot *toot toot, to-toot!*
enjoy. i hope it makes u crazy too. i really, REALLY do.
i missed: ModestJustice, Ayan, Aquila (coz she’s malay, and anyone with oriental-shaped eyes get a whole lotta lurve from me), Ange (sorry i didn’t comment, was reading every bit of your novel!). also missing the funny/weird comments i used to get, from readers (esp sisters whose blogs i comment on). i dearly missed my somali readers, bros and sistz alike. basically everyone. and for those of you who keep coming back to read something, loyal as ever, i appreciate it. keep it going, God knows u keep me going, at times.
and the craziest thought occured to me: may be i should arrange to meet up with naz, since both she and i are residing in london. pourqoui pas? i would really like to see what she’s like (i’ve been building an image of a small innocent 16yr old gal with a slangish english accent). and i know what everyone thinks about leaving the virtual internet life to www only, but i can’t help this inkling… and i wanna act on it.
anyhow. .. had a crazy summer. been reading everyone’s blogs but haven’t posted (sorry!). but hey, at least i remained loyal.
so what now? time for change, inshaAllah. from within. permanently. with Allah’s help and guidance.
this year, i’ll be crazy busy, lots and lots to do. loadsa pressure to perform to my highest standards. inshaAllah will do. i have a new found confidence.
my new year’s resolutions: need a lot of growing up to do to support my Islam, family and career. things to ban (sweets and chocs included, tv and too much fb included, other things which shall remain nameless included). no wardrobe changes or big spending (which, thank Allah, i rarely do). pass all hurdles put in front of me. stick to Quraan as a friend in need and a friend indeed. other things too which i may have forgotten/declined to mention.
inshaAllah will tick each one off as i go, will let u know how i get on.
meanwhile, will post more regularly, as much as i can, inshaAllah (can only promice what i can give!). will defo continue reading youse. u guys better make sure you benefit from these last 10 days of ramadhan, and from this friday.
is purely unprofessional. smacks of sneaky snidy slimy snake-like tactics… they should have known this would go public. if anything, they are doing more to discredit themselves by causing a row. they create a scene (for no real reason!). people wanna see for themselves. people begin to have more knowledge/different view of islam (ahh! you didn’t see that coming, did ya?).
here’s an email being sent around from sheikh yusuf estes (come on, y’all know him! funny, old texan brother who does global da’wah) about the (illegal?) certainly unfair (no prior notice/negotiation) acquisition of www.youtubeislam.com by google. no reasons given – clearly no harmful content, strictly regulated. only one reason, and one reason only can be thought of as to why they would want to take control of it. you can’t think of any? well, ever heard of censorship? then add possible islamophobia (paranoid? may be – if you provide evidence to state otherwise - but in the current world climate… come on!).
the result is true “hostile takeover”. read below and please investigate for yourself as to the nature of these claims:
Note:- Forwarded Message from Shk. Yusuf Estes.
Bismillah Rahman Raheem
I need your help, inshallah. Please do something for me and for Islam right now, inshalllah.
First, read this and then join me and those who believe in Allah – to stop a very horrible crime about to
be committed by some very powerful and forceful people. Help me put this information all over the
Internet and around the world – we can do it, inshallah.
Let me start at the beginning . . .
Can you imagine my shock when I opened up an email telling me our website domain name
(WWW.YOUTUBEISLAM.COM) is being taken over by GOOGLE and their video site - YOUTUBE?
Here is more or less what we were told:
NOTICE: Effective August 5th, 2009 Google (owner of YouTube.com) will
so… you decide what you are gonna do. i did as much as i could do by making this public and readily available on search engines when people want to find out what is happening. come on muslims, let’s give our support and prayers to resolve this unfair and seemingly deliberate act by google. you all make sure you to as best as you can in anyway (e.g. you can spread this).
wassalamu aleikum,
your sister – the gal with the inky 9alam
ps: remember that anything i write or you find can and may have been censored and the information altered slightly (i will let you know if they do that to mine!)
and this time, that new life of mine is for keeps. naturally, that’s what i say to myself every year (not other people’s new year, my new year), and despite the littlest changes, all else remains the same. my new year is usually summertime, and specifically when holidays start for me, i.e. when i am told by ______ that i no longer have to attend, and all _____ are finished and due for inspection and grading. and this new year has been busy, al7amdulillah. some bads. mostly good though. and not from me, but from HIM. al7amdulillah.
ramadhan is coming. fasting long, hot, sunny hours. looking forward to special food (the kind of food i usually suspect is reserved only for guests/ramadhan), people’s empty heads (they can’t think like they used to, much less function as before), family (whom i very much love), and most importantly, personal Allah-&-i time. i don’t look forward to weight gain (i orbit in opposite pathways to human beings) and working under the sun with zer0 body fuel. i can’t wait to get familiar again with Qur’aan on a whole new level, on lonely nights, under the moon light, my eemaan with Allah feeling tight (that rhymed! hehehe). all this and more, ramadhan means to me.
inshaAllah, inshaAllah, inshaAllah. i hope it works out good, inshaAllah.
society deemed it ok for semi-naked (bikini clad) or entirely naked women to be put on total public display (buses, train tunnels, billboards, etc). the purpose? as the usp (unique selling point) of a car, a chocolate bar/ice cream, a 2hr movie, a burger, a soap bar/clothes detergent, tv, a radio station. whatever lies under the sun. it would be surprising if any 5 yr old in the country is, at least, mentally a virgin. our gendre is, apparently, that cheap. we aren’t unique, afterall. but we definitely are a selling point.
anyhow, and after that slight reflection on where we are positioned in the grand scheme of things, in this “new world order” (you should try it sometime; very sobering) it occurred to me that some of these women are undeniably a little sexy (the ones that have meat on them, that aren’t transparent in sunlight), even to other women (at times, especially to other women). so after the last few year’s tirade of men in knickers advertising, well, how men in knickers should look like, i have come to this conclusion: perhaps i haven’t been missing out on much.
actually, it is good (for the business of men advertising what men in knickers should look like) that it all started off with freddie ljungberg, ‘coz it all went south from there. everything else i saw (not my fault. they were everywhere) after was shit. not exciting in the least. and the one that topped the shitty list of men in knickers on public display was david beckham.
observe the difference in elegance and grace, my humble students (contains imagesof 99% nude men. if you aren’t comfortable, i wasn’t either when i was waiting for my bus and was ambushed by some such images, on a minute-by-minute basis every day. shit happens. so don’t “haram” me). here is freddie, in calvin klein, and here’s david, in armani. miles apart. a tip to stylists in the armani studios; david doesn’t make women feel sexy at.all. he looks at you like you’re food. like he’s a predator. like he has a gbh record (he probably does, judging from his outbursts). like he is a professional suburbian pervert who spies on his neighbours’ wives with hi-tech binoculars. so armani, tell him to relax his eyebrows. and when you photoshop on these images, make his eyes lighten up, not darken them. and don’t put half his face indarkness – it doesn’t make him look darkly handsome and dashingly brooding. he looks like the type that lurks in alleyways at 2am. and th’s only the facial expression.
one thing i am very thankful about, regarding the existence of these men in knickers who abuse women everywhere, is that emphasised to me v e r y m u c h , leaving nothing to the imagination, why muslims (and the rest of humanity) must lower their gaze.
and the one that is currently sucking the life out of me, like those dementors from harry potter (good sfx, movie team!) that guard azkaban prison, among other things, is the d&g italian swimmers collection. in the brightest of turquoise. might induce epilepsy in some viewers. the ginger boy looks questionable, the one to the centre-left looks underaged and the one to the centre-right has skinny legs (eww!). the centre one has a very short neck and should not have been given a moustache (his face is already broad and small). the one on the back-left looks ok (should have lifted his head slightly), except who the f thought it was good for his hair to be gelled and spiked, and where is the stubble?
so someone close to me has recently got married. like, yesterday. in a “wedding dress” which i was sort-of responsible for (in her eyes, one which i was entirely responsible for). i did her make-up. i felt extremely happy and proud for her, and of her. in my eyes, it was the perfect. small and cozy, with lots of heart. done in a house (her bff’s). everyone who was anyone to everyone else was there.
the guy’s a white high flyer. he’s muslim. they got married in the prime of their life. it got me thinking, although it is near impossible to find a somali guy with that guy’s status, but with eemaan, humility, dignity and humour (he had it too, i’m sure. i never had the time to see for myself, but he must’av had it) we aren’t in a rush. we are still young. and just like i’m climbing upwards (al7amdulillah) i’m sure there’s someone out there who is also climbing upwards (in every way). and maybe he was reserved for me. you never know.
uber cute
one thing’s for sure: dear sisters (and brothers). every human’s life has been written in a book 50 000 years before Allah created the heavens and the earth, angels, demons, hell and paradise. it was the second thing He did, after creating the Throne (it was the pen – the first creation – that wrote this book; correct me if i’m wrong). He wrote if/when you will all be happy or sad. He wrote how many times you were likely to scratch yourself playing footie or on a rough surface, how many tears you will shed and how much your stomach will ache from laughter. how many people you will meet and affect, and whether or not you will appreciate the 10 fingers and toes and 5 senses you have. and in the middle of all these delicately and intricately woven details on every speck of your life, Allah has written the name of the person you will marry and how many children you will have. what kind of house you will live in. what joys and pains you will experience together. when this person was born, how you will meet (cliched like in the movies or very, very original) whether they are allergic to dogs and cats, whether they will have high blood pressure or diabetes, whether his/her mum is funny and short, or scary and tall, etc etc etc.
so, i am no longer worried. i figured, there is someone out there in whose book my name holds mention, and in my books he holds mention in. there is someone out there for me, and i for him. and i hope the rest of the book spells a happy life for him and i. so he will drop from the heavens above, quite like mr. bean did in the 1990’s sitcom, and i will tell him all about thai cuizine.
the end!
your dreaming, dreaming faithful friend,
the gal with the inky qalam
(if anyone steals the words above i swear i will find you and you will wish i hadn’t. it isn’t copyrighted. it is sukkar&filfil-righted)
for those of you who don’t know, cab is british for taxi. you can say taxi too; it’s ‘coz we are so tolerant and accomodating to other cultures – sometimes we choose to understand their language.
so. yester-yester-yester-night (this is tonight, that was 3 nights ago) i took a cab from l’hopital to my humble abode avec mon frere et ma tante. three things i knew immediately when i saw and heard him talk: he was turkish. he knew a bit of oft-repeated du3aa2 (du’a). he was drunk. not beer; didn’t have a nauseatingly sweet smell. subtle and sweet with a little kick – carlsberg? stella artois? donno…
i was feeling in the mood for a kill. haven’t killed in a long time. by that i mean fuck mess with your head a little. as much as i can in a 5 min drive, anyhow. it will be a small kill.
in britain, we admire people who can hold down their beer properly. if you then drive whilst drunk in the aforementioned manner, well, then you are very exceptionally talented. if you so happen to finish the night’s duties, managing without the police’s unwanted attentions, you are an icon to be followed. if you do get caught, however, more for the coppers. good on ya, boys.
aaaannnd he drove like MAD. i mean uses-gear-4-round-neighbourhood-side-roads mad. i mean round-bend-@-43 mph mad. he was mad. i think we admired each other from the start.
turk: “where to?”
s&f: “____ . you know ____ _____?”
turk: “what number?”
s&f: “___“
my bro barely closed the door when the turk zoomed off. i liked it! he did a u-turn in a major road – no cars where approaching. i liked it!
aunt: “is that ok [at the destination]?”
turk: “no, it will cost £1000“. my brother chuckled.
aunt: “£1000 is too little, actually“. we chukled a little, then sobered up a bit.
s&f: “are you turkish?” it was an announcement to my aunt and brother, not a question necessarily directed at him
turk: “al7amdulillah!” with much enthusiasm. we chuckled. aunt liked it!
aunt: “are you chinese?” sarcastically.
turk: “al7amdulillah!”
all of us: hahahahahahahahahahah!
he gave my brother a nice firm slap on his lower thigh, where his right knee bent. his hands stayed a little longer than they should. my brother smiled at him uncomfortably. i screwed at his face a little. we continued laughing. he was definitely drunk. it’s nice to laugh with drunk people.
s&f: “so you’re turkish“
turk: “alhamdulillah!”
s&f: “from istanbul or ankara?”. i always thought istanbul should be capital – it’s larger and prettier.
i knew he was probably from a small village and most definitely not from the places i mentioned. i wanted to get him more comfortable. i had a pointed, loaded question to ask, but needed the right moment.
turk: “no, from a small village, called k_____. near the black sea.”
i was intrigued. black sea means bulkan states of the old soviet union. i LOVE the old russian life; communism, trotsky, the tsars… vodka. what’s not to love? not a lot of poeple share this view, but that’s neither here nor there. i was slightly sorry about killing him.
s&f: “so you lived near a lot of trees and green?” brings back old memories…
turk: “yeah… yeah” he sighed. he liked his childhood. missed it even. well, we all grow up in the end anyhow.
s&f: “how long were you here?”
turk: “i was 15 when i came here“
s&f [to aunt]: “shouldn’t we drop you off first? your house comes before ours…”
s&f [to turk]: “can you go to _____ first? do you know where it is?”
he must be feeling sooo annoyed right now. in britain, we make our cab drivers swallow the maps of every turn in london, road or not, house or not. of course he bloody well knew. he’s fuming now, but the drink is keeping him in check. nice one!
but then, shouldn’t he be…
s&f: “turn left“. it was too late – he was slowing down to stop for the red light. it would have been better if he was positioned in the left lane, though…
turk: ” what are you? is she stupid?” with the same enthusiasm. score one for the drunken turk.
my aunt and brother laugh. my aunt’s house was in fact on the right. he was postitioned correctly. i was confusing roads. fair play.
turk [to my brother]: “my son is your age. he’ll start uni in september“
he’s not all bad if he can procreate children that end up in uni. but nowadays, anyone can go into uni…
s&f: “where?”
turk: “____”
s&f: “what is he studying?”
turk: “_______ ________ & _______”
ok, may be he’s not that smart.
turk: “my other son is a _______ and my younger son is a _______” (heavy-duty male-dominant jobs)
not bad. manual labour is good. honest graft.
by then, we arrived at aunt’s home.
s&f & her brother: “bye“
he drove like a lunatic again. specially around the bends. i don’t mind. it’s rather stimulating, actually; feels like a theme park ride. except i wasn’t wearing seat belts (yes, it sounds as though i wanna die) and i wasn’t looking forward to my head hitting the window and flying out into the street.
turk: “al7amdulillah, ya Allah, ya Ra7maan, ya Saabir. al7amdulillah. la 7awla walaa 9uwwata illa billaah“
he went round the roundabout at 45mph. we smiles; my brother chuckled a little. there was a steep downhill bend. i swear he was doing 50 or more.
no more convo. i didn’t have anymore questions for him. i knew everything i needed to know about him. it was a matter of when to kll. in a few seconds… NOW.
s&f: “you know a lot of dhikr“
turk: “al7amdulillah“
s&f: “so why do you drink alcohol?”
i smiled with glee. i won’t see him or hear of him again. my house is 20 yards away. what excuses may he bring? any answers will be too late and unaccetable. i have done what i wanted to do.
i f e l t j o y . u t t e r b l i s s a n d j o y.
turk: “what do you mean, alcohol? where?” naturally alarmed, agitated and slightly angry.
s&f: “i smell alcohol in your car” i said carelessly, sighing and stretching my arms in the process.
turk: “if you do, it means someone sneaked it in. which is wrong. you aren’t allowed alcohol in this car“
i know that, but do you? you ain’t allowed alcohol, full-stop, mate.
s&f: “i believe you“. and may whatever blows, blow.
the house is now 5 yards away. i didn’t give a damn. slight guilt that i indulge in these activities in general, but not a single damn for him. ok, may be a tad bit. i carry a fraction of his soul with me now, so i gess a tad tad tad bit.
still, i’m nice on the whole, and the fact that i still recalled this means i wish him a deep and worthy sleep at night.
10 honest facts about me (i am having a very filfil day, but here’s 5 filfil things, 5 sukkar things):
filfil: i would hate to die without having learnt the whole Quran. similarly, i would hate to become 30 without having memorised 30 chapters of it. which will come first, i wonder, my death or my being 30 yrs of age?
filfil: i may sometimes appear big-headed. i admit to acting like that, even, at times. but i also have a gigantenormous heart, and will give, give, give till i die, or till i have nothing to give to myself. must work on that.
filfil: i love Allah. sooooooooooooo much it hurts. so much that i don’t expect you to understand, but i most certainly hope HE does.
filfil: i very much like all the bad things that happened and will happen in my life. more for me to learn form, and actually, i have come to relish the aftertaste of goodness which comes out of it. i regret them, they make me cry, and my brain won’t let me sleep. but i need them because ultimately the bring me closer to HIM, at a time when i won’t go to HIM willingly.
filfil: there’s something i want out of life, which will lead me to Jannah, if followed strictly, and in Jannah, i want a specific “prize”, if i have been a good girl. actually, there’s two (i’m human. we are never satisfied. thus is life). i won’t tell you. i don’t want to ruin my chances. then again, haven’t i done enough damage to them myself?
sukkar: i can dance. belly, arab, hip-hop, street dance, you name it. i can also cook a nice curry and rice, roast chicken or meat dishes, sabbaya (i call it kimis) and 3anjeera (i call it laxoox). i can’t boil my pasta properly. i can clean. i am a woman, sort of.
sukkar: i grew up on lovely shit like below, and still watch it if i can find it, and yes that makes me younger and more childish than any unborn baby on this (corrupted, bad bad bad) side of the planet. i love it VERY VERY VERY much. and this is really me, except i wasn’t brought up in an orphanage, would NEVER go for my friends uncles (even though mr. jarvis pendelton is extremely hot, and can be an exception to the rule), and i believe in Allah. apart from that, we pretty much have the same personality. i’ll do a spesial post now and then on these.
sukkar: i used to think 19 years old was the bomb, man! i used to think i would have my whole life finished then; job as a doctor and president of somalia (united, of course), with 4 kids, no husband (didn’t see the relevance then), various masjids built and a maasive villa pour ma mere. that i would assasinate someone particularly nasty. oh, how things were easy when i was younger than 11.
sukkar: i have the most amazing dress sense in the world. no, really. no, really! oh, whatever then, don’t believe it. actually most days i dress all blah! but i look IT in weddings. and that’s not what i think only, or my mom’s love for me, it’s the jealosy i see in people’s eyes! muhuhahaha!
sukkar: i love babies, toddlers, kids. and they love me. you’re thinking “i can see why, after number 7″. yes, i can change someone else’s baby’s diapers. and they don’t mind, trust me.
there naturally is more. i can’t think now. need rest. lemme know what you think on the whole.
except, i knew i was adorable… but thanks for letting my head swell a little, LOL .
i know this is late, but i never knew this award could be wordpress-ed. well, now i know. it was a matter of copy & paste.
so 5 people i will give this to (in this order… i’m sick of “in no particular order”):
1) ange @ http://3beeta.blogspot.com/ for introducing me into the world of hijabi blogging (indirectly) and thus she is the reason i know all of youse. and really, she is adorable!
3) naz @ http://www.cozweare-sisters.blogspot.com/ because she made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside (ok, i’m allowed to be girly-n-pink at times) when she said she loves my blog, and in paticular, used the word macaanto (sweety in somali). yes, i remember nice people, and rewards them well!
4) ayan @ http://beyoutifulhijabi.blogspot.com/ she was the first somali person who i discovered, and al7amdulillah, i don’t regret it. just wish she’d post on her blog/comment on mine more missing you!
[NB: may contain offensive language. may also be hyperactive; do forgive]
the title is taken from my understanding of the prophet’s hadeeth on freemixing, where he says that if a male and female are together alone, then verily the devil is their third [companion] (or so he said in similar words).
and what i am referring to is the (old) vid below, of a cute 13 yr old masri singer and his honour-killing-wishing hijabi heroine, who are seemingly singing a tale about their forbidden desires for each other against the muslim society’s scornful eyes. basically, “how dare you mock/scorne us? we lo-blah shit crap blah-ve each other. we have no care in the world for such a hadeeth, etc etc etc“
i blame her for 9/11, 7/7 (london), madrid (trains), bali (malaysha), israel, etc etc etc. we’re not “jealous” of two sexually-excited teens the two of you going out together. yes, we would like to whip the two of you 100 lashes each, but not because we’re “jealous”. and no, the moon did not throw you into fits of passion; rather, you couldn’t control your pants.
readers, i warn you that you must pray, work, do whatever is important in your life right now before you watch this (mainly because it is rather addictive, in the little blond boy’s his defence).
NB: yes i am rather excited to be using the cross-through button on wordpress… i use it especially when i am pissed of at some waste-of-breathing-and-living-space people and chronicalling my lividity at their actions.
my prob is… why did you have to be his fuck-bunny love-interest with you hijab in the vid? you could have taken it off. better still, you could have NOT been in the vid all-together.
sorry for not posting for so long… it has been a very busy week. these are some random thoughts which i saved in my head to communicate with you; enjoy. hope it was worth the strain in my fingers.
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arab song criticism – “funky arabs” by jad choueiri:
so i saw this guy, jad choueiri (wtf does he have so many vowels in his name? some lebanese… augh!) and his song “funky arabs“. so his message is:
“dear bbc and cnn. arabs are not terrorists and suicide bambaris (read: bombers.. you’ll know why it is thus pronounced from his video). we are actually drug-taking, money-bashing, hip-hop arse-licking, sex-craved dancers (we’d like to think so too, only you actually hired a shiiite dancer) with a ‘modern touch’ (read: gangster-american-ised except by dna). my pathetic video will prove this to you“.
yes, jad? what would you like to prove to to us? let us see…
you know what occured to me? that maybe this would be so true if you just rearranged the “n” to behind the “y” in “funky”, that way, the “arabs” in this video would be accurately portrayed as “fukyn arabs”.
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film criticism – se7en:
i was watching “se7en”, with brad pitt and morgan freeman, and let’s not forget kevin spacey’s life-saving performance.i really don’t like pitt; actually, the only time he looks good is when his face is very bloody, which is why my favourate movie of his involves another darling actor (new blue eyes, robert redford) is spy game. they should have replaced him with john cussack; convincing and amusing.
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advert criticism – smirnoff, carlsberg and forsters:
the one going on my tv right now is forsters’ “get some australian in you“, and admittedly, if it made me laugh it’s bloody good. almost as good as the carlsberg adverts of 2007, my favourate being “carlsberg don’t do flatmates, but if they did…”. howver, my all time best advert thus far is smirnoff’s history one … if i weren’t a muslim (and al7amdulillah that i am) i would get wasted on vodka every weekend, and my favourate drink would be vodka with bailey’s vanilla cream & rum with a shot of lime juice.
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shaytan vs a poor girl - hijab battles:
him: “you aren’t very pretty and won’t get married at all; you aren’t easy to look at and this ‘tent’ comlicates matters; you won’t get a job; you stick out like a blond bimbo-esque wag at a suburbian countryside; you symbolise terrorism; your friends talk about you behind your back, wishing you would just disappear and the earth would just swallow you; you are ugly fooq el ugly fooq el fugly, more so than a baboon’s arse; your whole life from now on feels like a salmon in a sardine can” etc etc etc
girl listens to him. girl obeys him. girl feels very guilty and repents.
girl: “you know, this is not a matter of hijab, but whether or not i trust Allah’s chosen life for me. and i do, i trust Allah’s fate, good and bad, and there is no such thing as bad fate, just bad occurances/tests which hide a lot of good. so here’s to you” *raises glass of coconut and pineapple juice* “bleeding idiot, for making me a stronger muslim. if you carry on like this, i might even become a stronger mou2min. and in the meantime, i shall enjoy immensely having to torture and burn you… what do you mean, jinns are made of fire so they can’t be burnt? when mohammed ali and tyson fight, someone gets hurt even though they’re made of the same thing, dufus! how would you like a little of surat baqarah?”
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youtube findings – two athiests fighting over the burqa:
btw, if you are prone to crying quickly when muslims are cussed, be prepared for vid (1). also if profanity offends you, be prepared for vid (2).
also, if by some freak of nature someone who knows sarkozy is reading this, tell him not to interfere with what people want to wear. it’s their choice. next you’ll be teling us that one kind of islam is better than another, as if you knew… wait, didn’t you do that already?
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jumm3a thoughts – watching steve carell’s 40 yr old virgin:
it was amusing (this is one jew actor i like), and i regret letting go of something i usually don’t let go of.
before anyone kills me, that was not an anti-semetic joke. and he ain’t even jewish; roman catholic and italian, last time i checked.
also, wtf is up with what random people put into google and other search engines to find mine? i had:
1) wife fuck black
2) big black cock
3) hijab fuck
and others that i really don’t want to remember. you know who you are… lame, lame and more lame.
missing you!
