09:46 – I wasn’t getting any closer to my destination. I was still on the bus, stuck in traffic. I had left extra early to be on time but the lecture starts in less than 15 minutes. I started panicking, wondering whether I’d be able to make it on time. As I waited in distress, it eventually dawned on me that I was worrying over something that was neither under my influence or control. I had jumped on the bus with a ticket of my own doing. Someone else had...
My sister, know that only a prayer keeps us afloat for tomorrow: pulling down, pushing through the boarded window. I pack three suitcases for part two of the world: sleeping in, cheap wine, tax forms, sorority girls. I will miss my little brother calling adhan. Will I wake for fajr, a pink dawn? In a few months, I will have all Ramadhan, alone, to leash myself, to work my way through a plastic box of Palestine’s sweetest pitted dates. This summer, I’ll be packing my bags and preparing to...
Tasks and assignments piled high Due dates and deadlines on the rise Not a moment to stop, to think of life I race through my time: The days just pass me by, The weekends are a blur– Weekdays even more. I drown in my time: I am drifting far away. There is no time– I feel To make dua’a and pray. My prayers are like exercise– No longer do I value The meaning of sujood, The meaning of khushu’. I sink through my time: Reciting Quran mindlessly, Chanting istighfar...
Life is a journey. It continues through the passing of time. I stepped into a city of gray. I walked through its streets with no guide. People passed by with expressionless faces. Cars honked each other as they stalled in the hum of traffic. The wind masked the monotonic footsteps within the metropolitan area. And the sun hid lazily behind the towering skyscrapers. Whether I walked in a circle or forward, I did not know. I felt the speedy rush hour pace during the day and saw the never...
“All right, everyone. Let’s recite Surah Al-Asr before we finish class,” I announced to thirteen pairs of brown eyes staring up at me. In unison, the chorus of excited third-graders began to read the Surah. One little girl in a puffy white coat and gauzy blue hijab leapt up in excitement, waving her hands grandiosely as she recited the Surah. The boy sitting next to her saw this as a challenge; grinning, he increased his voice three octaves to try and overshadow her. By the time the Surah was...
Home. Where is home? I thought of this and only then was I faced with the inevitable. “We’re going to move by the end of the year.” My father’s sudden words temporarily silenced me. I paused for a moment, unsure of what to say or how to feel. “Do I have a choice?” I asked, afraid of what I knew he was going to say. “No,” he said quietly. He sensed my pain. He’s seen this look on my face before. But he too, had no choice. I tried...
I’m wasting colours, painting time, Throwing the pen in the air, Slicing okra in the orange-faded Kitchen, watching the thirds tessellate Like broken stencils in the colander. The metal fades, so I drag the blinds And unscroll the curtains to see rain Slipping down the windows. The Song? Tapestries of water Drops, puddles, oceans, casting lullabies, I try to follow - but my voice dies, They whisper the tune until I forget. Everything turns to dust: I can tell you I will, not when, There are shapes in the shadows,...
