Night 2

My enemy is within. My enemy is myself. To seek to forgive in pursuit of reconciliation is better than to retaliate. [Note: Lesson from Ash-Shura ayah 40]

I am aware of my failings when it comes to curbing indignation. It is a normal reaction to being treated rudely I reckon. Then again I must remember to reflect on self-behaviour rather than others's. It is easy to be 'good' when in company of good people. Hence when in company of brusqueness, it is up to the self to forgo the desire to retaliate & instead to remain kind & forgiving.

I'm re-reading In The Footsteps of The Prophet. It still is my favourite seerah book. I should post some notes here later.

Dear M.

On another note. I miss you. The you that I address in my writings. I should finish writing that letter & just drop it in your mailbox. That postcard you sent me from Saigon made me nostalgic.

How did I manage to fill an entire journal with nothing but thoughts of you? I can't remember what it feels like anymore.

Also, I still don't think I'll ever fall in love. I lack the propensity for it (as I've said to you, a thousand times over) and suitors (lol). 

Into Ramadhan (Night 1)

Tarawikh prayers began tonight. Went to the mosque with my parents, it is strange... I thought of the Ramadhans spent in Melbourne, how different they were vs. here at home.

It is hard to let go. It has been 6 months and I am much settled in. That misplaced rage I experienced in the first few months has been (largely) doused.

And so it begins, the nightly Tarawikh prayers. I did only 8 rakaahs, I'm disappointed in myself to be honest. It is not like I work during the day, I ought to be able to perform more rakaahs. I will try harder tomorrow.

I look for something to shake my soul, scorch it clean. The pure, white heat of abstaining from desires, increment of ibadah. The word 'Ramadhan' is after all 'scorching heat' or 'dryness'. I have notes on this, I can't remember where I put them.

At any rate, tomorrow we fast.

Ya Rabb, move me towards you.

Of rain

It's narrated by Imaam Muslim in his authentic compilation from the hadith of Anas, He said: It rained upon us as we were with the Messenger of Allah (may peace be upon him). The Messenger of Allah (pbuh) unveiled his garment (from a part of his body) until the rain fell on him. We said: Messenger of Allah, why did you do this? He said: Because it (the rainfall) has just come from the Exalted Lord.

                                                                                        ~Prophetic Tradition (x)

It is raining as I type this. I've many memories of rainy days; in Melbourne, in all the cities I've travelled to. Today, at home, they come to me and nestle by my side.

10 days

Til Ramadhan. And I am not doing enough in preparation for it. If the spirit is to dwell in purity come the sacred month,  one should strive beforehand.

Like a welcoming, an act of reverence, of ibadah. 

I need to move myself, shift my tepid attempts and just do more. 

Dear Star VI

You've abandoned me.

       Turned your light 

       And fled with the dark.

Stillness

How much longer will this quiet last? I am not surrendering to this decay, I can't. 

Did Rumi feel this way when his Shams left and never returned? A kind of gaping, bloodless wound. An immolation of the heart. No wind, no breath, no song. 

Merely routine and a kind of supine rage.

Change

"We are not the same persons this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person."
                                                                               ~ W. Somerset Maugham

Upon reading this, I thought of A. How Time hasn't been very kind to our friendship. There is resentment between us; I on her secretive nature and her on my...I do not know exactly what. Perhaps jealousy, but that is too much of an assumption.

For what it's worth, I still long for A. to reach back to me. It seems such a waste...all those years of company and suddenly nothing. Well, next to nothing. I love to be needed and it is a flaw. A kind of arrogance, a problem of the Ego.

Dear A. if you're reading this (though you undoubtedly don't), I revere still your artistry. To quote my best confession towards you (as you may still have that letter pinned to your board),

"I miss watching you draw

and stealing them into my memory.

If you enter my mind, there is a gallery

of every which drawing of yours I ever saw.

               Our mutual affection is a thing I ponder

               When my days turn sombre."

                                                                                ~Lonely Woods, 2012

Perhaps no longer mutual yet still. If you wish me by your side, I will be there. You need only ask.

p.s. Hello June.