I don’t know how to begin describing it. It is paradoxical; escapes words, almost. ‘Almost’: what a word. Standing on the brink of something, and then it escapes you: the effortless dissipation of a mirage. Your Lord Knows Best, you know. So here, maybe, is the part where I am meant to part with some of my previously-held convictions. I’m still not entirely sure on the Islamic rulings on animations, but (from when I used to watch them) it’s like that perfect part of Spiderverse when Spidey jumps. Leap of faith. He’s falling. The $ickest perspective shift I have ever seen: he’s flying.
I think I was lied to, for the longest time. You will not be named; you gave me the wrong perspectives on so many things. I absorbed those dishonesties as though they were truths: your filter, my world. And I am meant to forgive, but I don’t really know how. There is just so much. And all I am left with is a lump in my throat, and it grows, and then it shrinks. And I forget for a while, and then I am reminded of who I am, here: a human being, here in Dunya. Lots of things hurt, here. Look at me: I think my hands are trembling. And we’re all half-weak, here. Half-so strong: we’re built this way.
Though sometimes my Īmān wavers: a horse that must be bridled, tamed… If I have prayed for only the best, then everything that leaves, has left. Fallen like the paper leaves of autumn, but you want to believe that they are (still?) green. And everything that arrives, enters, seemingly out of nowhere: Qadr. So Bismillah.
These are difficult times, and we find that fire is washing over our minds: yesterday, I think, I’d come across an expression that describes water as being “liquid fire”. And I quite love this idea. Liquid fire: wash, burn, things off. Make room; make space for the new. Adapt; make room; be prepared to grow. Do not grieve, or worry, even when you do. We’ll do this together; Bismillah.
I’ve been uncertain; everybody has been. I’ve been wrong; I’ve been wrong; I’ve been wrong. How much we hide; what, and how much of it, do we ever really show?
Forgiving is not forgetting. It’s discipline, in the face of truths. Sabr: taste what is bitter, and be strong in the face of it. And the ensuing sweetnesses will be yours, Insha Allah.
I’m just glad that I’m not ‘in charge’ of things, here. How foolish I can be; how wrong and naïve.
Indeed, though, Allah is with us. And: Allah Knows, Allah Knows, Allah Knows.
With Salaam, Sadia, 2021.