Polaris Blog

Timeless Gift (chapter 5)

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Mon, 23 Apr 2012 09:32:00 +0000

Ever since the meeting in April during Ramadhan, Ashraff had kept in touch with Yusuff every now and then. Their meeting at the mosque was “a blessed meeting” according to Ashraff. He had grown to care for Yusuff and his family. Yusuff felt the same connection with him. They had invited him to spend Eid in Bloomingdale. Ashraff had to turn down the invitation. He had already made plans to celebrate it in London – the place where he reverted to Islam the previous Ramadhan. He wanted to be with his family on his second Eid. ~ In early summer, June ’90, after a recommendation letter from Ashraff, Shafikah was hired to work part time at the Bloomingdale Chronicle. However, two weeks later she received a call from her friend, Jameelah, a Muslim African American who lived in the neighboring town. They were course mates at IUPU. Jameelah’s family owned a small publishing company and was starting a new Muslim magazine. They wanted her to be one of the editors. Shafikah did not want to let Ashraff down by leaving the job at Bloomingdale chronicle, but at the same time she felt a strong obligation to work at the Muslim magazine. After doing istikharah prayer, seeking Allah’s (s.w.t.) guidance in making the right decision, and discussing with her brother and sister-in-law, she made up her mind to quit the job at the local papers. Ashraff called Bloomingdale Chronicle to speak to Shafikah and ask how she was doing, but was informed that she had quit. So, he called her at home in the evening to speak to her. Unfortunately, she was having a meeting about the premier edition of the magazine. “Brother Ashraff, my sister’s still worried that she has let you down.” “Tell her to stop worrying. I’m happy for her, alhamdulillah! I think she made a wise decision, brother Yusuff.” “I think she looks up to you as a mentor in some ways.” Ashraff laughed. “I’m flattered to be a mentor to a cub magazine editor…a Muslim editor. Insha Allah, I will help her in anyway I could. But from the look at things right now, I think your sister is going to do well, insha Allah.” “I hope so too, insha Allah. I know she loves writing. It’s been her strong interest…her passion I‘d say, since she was in school.” Yusuff explained to Ashraff about Shafikah’s involvement in writing at school, and later at the college, that led her to study Journalism. Ashraff was pleased to hear it. “How’s the family anyway?” Ashraff changed the subject. He noticed he had asked too much about Yusuff’s sister. “Umar is active as usual. Insha Allah, we’re going to have an addition to the family…say in about seven months or so…a brother or a sister for Umar.” “Masha Allah! Congratulations, brother Yusuff. Two good news in one day. Alhamdulillah!” “Well, there’s the third one.” Yusuff added eagerly. “More?” “Yes. The committee members of the Islamic Center have agreed to open another Islamic class for the children to add to the present one. Fatima and Shafikah might be involved in it too.” “Masha Allah! You’ve all really been blessed by Allah Ta’ala. Alhamdulillah. Thank you for sharing the good news with me.” Yusuff and Ashraff realized their growing friendship had become stronger by the day. It was the bond of Muslim brotherhood that pulled them together. “Who else to share the good news of Muslim achievements, if not with one’s own brothers and sisters in Islam!” “Alhamdulillah.” Ashraff felt touched by Yusuff’s comment. “Alhamdulillah.” “I hope with this Islamic class, your sister won’t have too much on her plate. After all, she’s a newly appointed editor.” “I’ll make sure to pass that advice to your student…I mean the cub Muslim editor...” They both laughed. “Do so! Please send my regards and salams to her and sister Fatima too.” “Insha Allah, I will, brother Ashraff.”

Timeless Gift (chapter 4)

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Wed, 04 Apr 2012 04:56:00 +0000

Chapter 4

Yusuff was fixing Umar’s toy when he heard a knock at the door. It was Ashraff. He arrived an hour before iftar. Yusuff invited him in. They talked about Ashraff’s visit to the town. Suddenly Umar tugged at Ashraff’s pants. The little boy wanted to show him his fire truck. Ashraff gave his attention to the boy and played along. Yusuff watched them with a smile. Later, they broke the fast with some dates and drinks. Before eating the main food, Yusuff led Maghrib prayer in congregation.
~
Ashraff studied the food in front of him. “I ate Malaysian food once…a couple of years ago in Kuala Lumpur. Kind of spicy I think, but delicious! Masha Allah!”
“You are welcome to try every one of these. The ladies specially prepared them for you…the guest!” Yusuff smiled. Ashraff returned the smile and glanced at the women happily.
“He’s right brother Ashraff, help yourself, please,” Fatima added.
They talked about Malaysia and places Ashraff had been to for his assignments as a journalist. He was in Malaysia for two days in 1985 after covering a story in Singapore. Yusuff mentioned that Shafikah was graduating in Journalism that spring. Ashraff was surprised she had not mentioned it when they met at the library of the Islamic Center’s. He had told her he was a journalist when he introduced himself.
“Congratulations, Sister Shafikah!”
“Thank you, insha Allah, if everything goes well.”
“So, what’s your big plan after graduation? Leaving for home to be a reporter or a writer, perhaps?”
Yusuff and Fatima looked at Shafikah with a smile. They knew this was a decision she had been trying to make since finishing her internship in the fall.
“I still have this semester to complete, but yes, I have that in my plan, insha Allah.”
“You could stay here for a while and seek for a part time job at the local paper to get more hands-on experience. It would be good for your reśumé later, insha Allah,” Ashraff suggested.
Shafikah turned to look at her brother who then raised his eyebrows as if waiting for Shafikah’s response to the suggestion.
She turned to face Ashraff. “I’ve also thought about that, Brother Ashraff, but really I haven’t made my final decision.”
“I know someone at the local paper here. If you decided to stay and work here for a while, I could help. Just don’t hesitate to ask.” Ashraff explained that his old friend worked as an editor at the Bloomingdale Chronicle.
“Thank you, jazak Allahu khairan.”
“Wa anti kathaalik.” He gave her a friendly smile.
After dinner, the women left Yusuff and Ashraff alone. They were discussing the lecture tapes he was looking for at the Islamic Center. Later, they all left for tarawih prayer.
~
After the tarawih prayer, Yusuff invited Ashraff for another iftar since the next day would be his last day in Bloomingdale to finish his work. However, he had already accepted the Imam’s invitation. He told Yusuff that they might meet again at the Islamic Center tomorrow night. He planned to leave for Indianapolis after tarawih prayer.
Ashraff walked Yusuff to the car to say goodbye. The ladies were already waiting at the car.
“I guess this is goodbye, then… just in case I don’t get to see all of you here tomorrow night. Thank you for everything, alhamdulillah. I really had a great time at your home tonight. It’s a pleasure meeting your lovely family, Brother Yusuff. I won’t forget this.”
“We’ll keep in touch, insha Allah.”
“That would be great, insha Allah.”
Fatima was already at the back seat of the car holding the sleeping Umar.
Shafikah opened the car door to the front seat. “Take care of your iman, Brother Ashraff.”
“Insha Allah. Make du’as for me too Sister Shafikah…we’re in a great month right now.” He smiled at her.
“Insha Allah, I will. As salam alaikum.”
~
Yusuff met Ashraff after his last tarawih prayer at the mosque. He sent his salams to Fatima and Shafikah. He reminded Yusuff to tell Shafikah again about his offer to help her.

Timeless Gift (chapter 3)

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 16:56:00 +0000

Chapter 3

1990 was Shafikah’s final year at IUPU - Indiana University Purdue University, Indianapolis. Shafikah had been contemplating working in Bloomingdale, the town where her brother and his family resided. Her plan was to get some additional experience in journalism before leaving the town for good. However, Allah (s.w.t.) gave her more than what she had bargained for.

~

Indianapolis Airport in August 1988 was busy, just like the one in L.A thought Shafikah. This one was smaller but still packed with people who were caught up with their own travel arrangements. Shafikah was looking at her watch when a light tap landed on her right shoulder. She quickly turned around and smiled.

“As salaam alaikum, Fikah.” Her brother, Yusuff, greeted her with a big grin.

“Wa alaikum salaam, Abang Yusuff!” She excitedly returned his salaam. She took her brother’s hands to kiss and they hugged. They talked about her long trip and she conveyed salaams from their family and relatives.

“It’s really been a while since we last met. You look…” Yusuff quickly took two steps backward and studied his little sister. “…different!” He smiled at her.

“No, I don’t! Not that much different!” Shafikah immediately gave Yusuff a light punch on his left arm. She rearranged her light blue flowery satin scarf. It was fully covering her hair and flowing onto her chest. She wore it differently the last time he saw her – not exactly covering the whole hair, letting the bang showing on her forehead and tying the scarf at the back of her neck, thus leaving the front of her neck and chest uncovered by it. That was a year and a half ago, not long after his marriage to Fatima. Yusuff had come home to introduce his wife to his family, and to meet his wife’s families and relatives for the first time.

“Well, I’m not going to comment on that yet…but one thing remains the same…still as perky as ever! Now, let’s go get your stuff and leave this place! Umar Hafzi is waiting for you.”

Shafikah was all excited at the mention of her six-month-old nephew whom she had never met. “I can’t wait to see him and Kak Fatima. Let’s go….lead the way, bro!”

~

“Fikah?” Fatima called Shafikah when she noticed that her sister-in-law was lost in thought. They were cleaning the table after iftar. Yusuff was looking after the two-and-a-half-year-old Umar Hafzi in the living room.

“Earth to Shafikah…” She joked and finally caught Shafikah’s attention.

“Uh-huh…oh, I’m sorry, I was just thinking….this might be my last Ramadhan here with you, Abang Yusuff and little Umar. How fast time has gone by …it’s been two years…well, almost!” There was a little sadness in her voice.

“I know…it is, especially when you’re not looking at the clock… counting the minutes and the seconds…” Fatima made a small laugh, trying to cheer her up. She glanced at Shafikah and caught her half smiling. Fatima detected a little sadness in her sister-in-law’s voice and wondered. “You’re not happy to go home...for good? Are you sad?”

“I’m not sad…well maybe a little…I’ve grown attached to this place. It’s just that…this place…all that has happened to me here, living with you and Abang Yusuff has changed my life. I guess I grew up more here in two years than I did twenty years living at home…masha Allah! I wonder how Mama and Papa will react when they see me.” Shafikah ended with a wondering look.

Living with her brother and sister-in-law in a non-Muslim land had made Shafikah see how beautiful Islam was. The Muslims tried hard to hold on to their faith and really put the teachings of Islam into practice in their daily lives. It was a gift that she doubted she would have experienced and felt, living in her own home in a Muslim country. In fact, the experience had made her feel she had taken for granted being born a Muslim.

“They’ll be just as happy and grateful as I am right now to have you as my sister!” Fatima made another effort to cheer her up.

“And you’re partly responsible for that positive change. Alhamdulillah!”

“Alhamdulillah. I’ve also learned some things from you…and Yusuff. Allah Ta’ala has made us learn something from each other I believe…here.”

“I still remember the first time Abang Yusuff came home during the summer break after a year studying here. I was still in high school…in form four, I think. The family and I thought he had changed a lot! We were all so surprised. I even teased him by calling him Brother “Ustaz”…he tried to talk some sense into me about being a better Muslim girl…but I was too stubborn back then…kind of a rebellious daughter and sister… too much affection got to my head…I was like a spoiled princess in the family, you know!” They both laughed at what Shafikah had just said.

Living with Fatima had taught Shafikah one thing in general about being a Muslim. “I guess I took the fact that I was born Muslim for granted…never really realized how many converts…or should I say reverts….there are. How much these reverts struggle to find “the true path”. Living in a non-Muslim country and trying to stand up for my religion has opened my eyes about the true meaning of life. I really need this wake up call. Alhamdulillah, I’m grateful to Allah Ta’ala and thanks to you too Kak Fatima. You’ve made me see how much of a struggle becoming a Muslim is. In the end, at least you know, insha Allah, you will get to heaven and all the struggle of finding the right religion will pay off…insha Allah.” Shafikah smiled at her sister-in-law.

They sat around the table for a glass of water. Both were reminiscing the past, as if trying to capture and to share every unforgettable moment of their past lives. They had never talked about this side of each other before.

“When I first met your brother, the only thing we shared was our nationality – Malaysians! He was sitting at the da’wah table in the student center…and this Chinese girl…that was me…and her friend stopped by his table. He smilingly and politely gave us a couple of pamphlets about Islam. We didn’t stay for long and left. It took me a year later to accept Islam as my religion. But I believed that what I saw and learned that day marked the beginning of my soul searching. Alhamdulillah for the hidayah and taufiq from Allah Ta’ala.”

Shafikah remembered the first time she had learned about her sister-in-law’s pain and difficulties after her conversion to Islam. Her family had disowned her. Her marriage to Yusuff had made it worse. However, the birth of Umar Hafzi was the beginning of her reunion with her family. Even though the strain in their relationship was still there, at least now, Fatima and her family were communicating.
They were still engrossed in their conversation when Yusuff popped his head through the door to the kitchen.

“Excuse me my ladies, I hate to bug, but let’s get going.”

The women laughed at him and left the kitchen. It was 10th April 1990, the fourteenth day of fasting for the Muslims all over the world. The night was the 15th Ramadhan night. And like the previous nights, they were leaving for tarawih prayer at the Islamic Center.

~

After the tarawih prayer, the Imam’s wife reminded Shafikah and Fatima about the second family gathering for iftar that weekend. They agreed to come and promised to invite more families to attend. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door to the women’s praying section. It was Yusuff, signaling them to leave.

Yusuff was talking to a man by their car as Shafikah and Fatima were approaching. They could not tell who it was, but Shafikah thought the man looked familiar. He seemed to have just finished the tarawih prayer there too. Yusuff excused himself and walked towards the women. He handed Umar to his wife. “I offered this brother a ride, but I will drop you ladies home first. Umar is asleep anyway.”

The women took the backseat. As the car was pulling out of the driveway of the Islamic Center, Yusuff introduced the man to his sister and wife. His name was Muhammad Ashraff Matthew. He nodded slightly to his left as a sign of courtesy. Shafikah, who was sitting behind the driver’s seat, was surprised to see his face and so was he. He quickly glanced back for confirmation.

“Oh! Sister, so that was you this afternoon?”

Concealing her surprise on meeting him again, Shafikah answered. “Yes, that was me.”

“You’ve met my sister, Brother Ashraff?”

“We met at the library of the Islamic Center this afternoon. I was looking for some books and asking her about the latest lecture tapes…”

“…which, unfortunately, I couldn’t get for you. Someone had already checked them out…” Shafikah felt sorry for Ashraff as she recalled him looking so hopeful of getting those tapes from the library.

“Perhaps I have some at home that you might be interested in,” Yusuff suggested. The men continued talking about the tapes. Yusuff invited Ashraff for iftar at their house for the next day.

~

After putting Umar to bed, the women sat on the couch, folding some laundry while waiting for Yusuff. Shafikah told Fatima about her meeting with Ashraff at the library. She had planned to tell her brother and Fatima about Ashraff.

“It must have slipped my mind.”

Both smiled at her forgetfulness.

“I was going to ask if Abang Yusuff could lend him some tapes. I did ask for his contact info so that Abang Yusuff could get in touch with him about the tapes. Now I think it’s all taken care of, alhamdulillah!

“He seems like a good brother…reminds me of myself when I was a new Muslim a few years ago. I also went to the library of the Islamic Center to find materials on Islam.”

Shafikah said she and Ashraff talked a little about the Muslim families in Bloomingdale. He had told her about his short trip to this town. “He came here this morning…a journalist on assignment…”

Fatima interrupted with a surprised look. “Did you just say a journalist, Fikah?” She stopped folding a shirt and waited for Shafikah's answer.

“Yes, a journalist.” Shafikah replied short, but the thrill in her voice was too obvious to Fatima's ears.

Fatima smiled, noting Shafikah's excitement at the word “journalist”. With a teasing smile, she said, “Perhaps there’s something special Allah Ta’ala has in store for you, Sis. This is, after all, a blessed month, Ramadhan. Have you made the decision yet? Or, perhaps you can get some advice from the pro, insha Allah!”

Shafikah smiled sheepishly at Fatima. “Perhaps, Kak Fatima...insha Allah.” Then, with a thoughtful look she added,“I wonder if he’s been a Muslim for a some time already. He seems to know much about Islam, but still in quest of knowledge.”

“Well, aren’t we all supposed to, my dear...as Muslims?”

Shafikah smiled, nodding in agreement, but her smiling face slowly turned pensive.

Fatima chuckled, slightly shaking her head at the curious look on her young sister-in-law’s face. “Insha Allah, we’ll know more about our new Brother Ashraff tomorrow, my dear Sister Shafikah!”

As we enter 1433 H...

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Fri, 25 Nov 2011 11:23:00 +0000

Live simply...
Walk humbly...
Love genuinely...

Guide us o' Allah to earn Your pleasures...
Bless us o' Allah Your forgiveness...

Tomorrow...the last day of Zulhijjah 1432
Farewell 1432 H...

Eid Mubarak

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Fri, 02 Sep 2011 07:15:00 +0000

"In your light I learn how to love. In your beauty, how to make poems. You dance inside my chest where no-one sees you, but sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art." ~ Rumi.

The Gift - A Book Review by Zeneefa Zaneer

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Tue, 26 Jul 2011 01:46:00 +0000

Book Review Buzz
2011 Summer Ramadan Edition of IWA Magazine

The Gift authored by Zaipah Ibrahim – Reviewed by Zeneefa Zaneer

“The Gift” is an Islamic romance fiction about a mother whose dream was to see her eldest son settling down before she left this world. Saleeha with her best friend’s help and the trust of Allah meets Syira and tries to match make her with Imran, Saleeha’s eldest son. Both being against of match making and having less interest in marriage, fearing to keep trust on a relationship, and their memories of past stick them on ground of opinion where they stand. Because of their less interest for this marriage, Saleeha’s dreams fade day by day. Yet Saleeha not giving up, believing both are meant for each other, tries to build a pleasant relationship between the two. Finally with lost hope when she becomes seriously ill Ani, her best friend let both Imran and Syira know about Saleeha’s health condition and her dreams. To keep his mother happy in her last days Imran agrees to marry Syira. Syira having a pleasant view and respect for the strange woman agrees to this temporary marriage too. The intention behind the marriage was mere respect and love for Saleeha.

But how love and trust enters their life after the marriage was really amazing. From the beginning to the end the story unfolds smoothly and keeps the reader’s eyes and mind glued on pages. From Saleeha to Ani, Imran to Syira the way the writer has built the characters and their qualities keep the reader tied into the story. Every chapter gives hope for a beginning of another best and well written, marvelously planned chapter.

The strange but the beautiful feeling runs through a man and woman meant for each other have been written perfectly. The way writer pour her thoughts through her pen shows how talented she is and it simply explains how beautiful it can be, romance in Islamic perspective.

In today’s era it’s difficult to find a romance fiction without unnecessary involvement between the main characters, man and woman. Yet our writer of this beautiful story shows that it’s not necessary to write haram stuff to attract the reader. Books in this kind are good and necessary for young adults and even adults who like reading romance fiction. Promoting Halal way of living through halal writing is essential and this kind of books must reach not only the Muslims but also the others in the society to realize that there’s a beautiful world behind the glamorous world they try to live in.

In a short sentence this book is a ‘Gift’ for the society and the readers.

Just write...

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Mon, 30 May 2011 11:56:00 +0000

"If you're going to be a writer, the first essential is just to write. Do not wait for an idea. Start writing something and the ideas will come. You have to turn the faucet on before the water starts to flow."

~ Louis L'Amour

Timeless Gift (chapter 2)

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Mon, 04 Apr 2011 17:18:00 +0000

Chapter 2

“Assalamualaikum dwellers of the graves.” Shafikah whispered as she neared the graveyard and continued. “Assalaamu ‘alaikum ahl al-diyaar min al-mu’mineen wa’l-muslimeen, Insha Allah bikum laahiqoon, as’al Allaaha lana wa lakum al-‘aafiyah (peace be upon you O people of the dwellings, believers and Muslims, Insha Allah we will join you, I ask Allah (s.w.t.) to keep us and you safe and sound).”

The morning was beautiful. It was not cold though a thin layer of snow covered the ground. Spring had just begun. The trees were still bare though, but soon green leaves would be crowning the trees all over Bloomingdale and other parts of southwest Indiana. The surrounding was quiet. The peaceful air seemed to envelop her to pacify what she was feeling inside.

Her heart was filled with love, sadness and longing for the person she was visiting. About seven steps before the intended spot, she stopped. She looked around. It was peaceful and quiet. She saw an old woman kneeling by a tombstone of her loved one reading verses from the Qu’ran in her hands. A question popped in her mind. “Would I still be here to visit you at that age?” She turned towards her direction and started walking.

“Assalamualaikum, Ashraff.” Shafikah whispered and her eyes were fixed on the clean spot in front of her. She was calm. No tears, just, peace inside her. She was amazed at how neat and clean the place was even though she and the family rarely came to visit. She wanted to come more often but her obligations as a mother, a teacher and a writer took much of her time. Anyway he was with her anywhere she was. She just knew this always. Ashraff even prayed for that during his last days…

Ashraff and Shafikah had just finished Isha’ prayer together. She was amazed at his sudden strength at every prayer time. He reminded her that Rasulullah (s.a.w.), during his last days before his death, still led prayers even though he was sick.

Still sitting on his praying mat, Ashraff turned around. As always, Shafikah approached him to kiss his hands. When she looked up to him, he held her hands in his. Looking deep into her eyes, he smiled and spoke to her.

"I love you and that little guy in the next room. Don’t ever forget that.”

Shafikah looked into his eyes and smiled. “I won’t, insha Allah.”

Still holding her hands in his, he gently placed them on their touching knees. He seemed calm and peaceful.

“Insha Allah, you are not going to be alone, Shafikah.” Ashraff paused and smiled lovingly at his wife. “Insha Allah, one day, you’ll meet a good man…perhaps a much better Muslim man than I am…and insha Allah, Affif too will have a brother or a sister…or more.”

“Ashraff, no… don’t say…” Her eyes were full with tears. Ashraff put his finger to her mouth to interrupt her. She did not expect him to talk about this. Not that soon anyway.

Ashraff continued. “You will love them and tell them about how much we helped each other grow as Muslims…and how much we loved each other in Allah Ta’ala.” He paused. His eyes were glistening with tears as he continued in a whisper, “…and how I hurt you…but Allah the Almighty has kept us together even after all these…alhamdulillah.”

Shafikah was looking into his eyes trying to capture the way he looked at her and never wanting to lose it. “I pray that every time you miss me or think of me, Allah Ta’ala will make you feel my presence. After all, as long as you both love Him, He won’t let you both feel alone. Be close to Allah Ta’ala always… that way you will have peace…’real’ happiness in Him. Remember always… HasbunAllah wa ni’mal wakil (Allah (s.w.t.) (Alone) is Sufficient for us and He is the Best Disposer of affairs (for us))."

Shafikah fell into his arms sobbing. Ashraff held back the tears as much as he could and a painful smile appeared on his face. It was not the pain from his sickness. It was the pain from thinking about Shafikah and their son living without him.

She gently ran her fingers over the stone engraved with Ashraff’s name, dates of birth and death while kneeling close to it. She took a small book from her bag. Settling herself comfortably beside him, she began reading the small book in her hand. The late morning breeze touched her cheeks while she was softly reciting the beautiful Qur’anic verses.

Later, as she was placing the little book back into her bag, she saw the old woman leaving the cemetery. They glanced at each another and exchanged smile. Then, Shafikah was alone with him.

“Our little guy is bigger now, alhamdulillah. I didn’t tell him I was coming here. Or else, he would make me bring him here too.” She weakly smiled and paused. She could picture Ashraff smiling at her words. Taking a deep breath, Shafikah continued.

“He’s a very bright and smart kid. SubhanAllah! You would be proud of him… I know you do see him some how, sometimes.”

Shafikah looked intently at his name on the white stone of his grave.

“I’m not sure why I came. Last year, I thought I would skip it this year since Affif needs me but…here I am...again.” Shafikah let go a small sigh.

“I know that I can be strong and live without you, Ashraff. Insha Allah, I can. Abang Yusuff and Kak Fatima have been so great to me…and Affif…he’s just so wonderful, subhanAllah…” She paused and, with a longing expression on her face, continued in a whisper, “…but I’ll miss you forever.”

Shafikah felt a sudden surge of emotion. She quickly took another deep breath. She tried her best to stay composed as she had promised herself. She did not want to drop a tear there.

“It seems like only days ago you were entrusted to me by Allah Ta’ala. Then, the ‘amanah’ was lifted from me when you returned to Him…but, there will always be a part of me that just won’t leave you. A part of who I am now… is you Ashraff.”

Shafikah didn’t say much after that, but looked at the grave intently. Sitting next to his grave, she felt their closeness at that moment. But, she could not trespass the barrier set between his and her worlds. Only the Almighty Allah (s.w.t.) knew when they would be together again in one world. Until that time came, she could only pray that he was “treated” well in the other world. She remembered the lecture given at the mosque:

“One’s good or bad deeds are his/her companion in the grave…your salat, your fast, your dhikr…”

She just wanted to be near him for a while before facing another day without him. Her past when she first came to the town and their past together flooded her mind as she recalled her life for the past twelve years. It was all coming back to her…her life before him, the life they shared, and her life without him.

Timeless Gift (chapter 1)

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Mon, 04 Apr 2011 17:08:00 +0000

Chapter 1

“Ummi, where’s my mujaahid’s beret?” Affif finally asked his mother after searching everywhere for Ashraff’s beret. He called it a mujaahid’s beret after watching a mujaahid wearing it in a documentary program about the tragedy of the Bosnians. It was big for him but he liked to wear his father’s beret whenever they wanted to eat together. He told his mother that it made him “a big man” like one of those mujaahideen.

“Didn’t you leave it on the bookshelf last night, honey?” Shafikah saw her son entering his room to look for it at the place she had just mentioned.

Shafikah waited but her son still did not show up in the kitchen. “Affif, have you found it? Dinner’s getting cold now.”

“In a minute, Ummi.”

“What’s keeping him now?” Shafikah murmured to herself. She decided to find out what was going on.

There he was on his bed holding Ashraff’s photo. Their eyes met when she reached his bed.

“Today’s the day, right, Ummi?”

Shafikah looked sadly into her son’s eyes. She nodded and whispered, “Yes.” The day was April 10^th 2001.

“You were in my room today, Ummi?” His voice was soft.

Shafikah was there earlier and she was looking at the photo herself, but she forgot to put it back on the night table near Affif’s bed. Instead, she had misplaced it on the bookshelf, next to his father’s beret.

“Do you miss Daddy, Ummi?” Affif inquired when Shafikah did not answer his previous question.

Sitting on his bed, she looked at her son lovingly. “I have you, honey.” Her eyes glistened with tears.

“But do you, Ummi? Do you miss Daddy?” Affif’s face was sad.

“I do and you know that, sweetie.” Affif placed the photo back on the table and hugged his mother. Shafikah wiped away a silent tear.

Pulling himself apart from the warmth of her embrace, Affif sat cross-legged on the bed facing his mother.

“Today’s Daddy’s birthday…” He paused. His voice was soft. “…and his death day.” He remembered this date very well. As young as he was, he was very attentive to people’s feelings and what happened around him, especially anything having to do with the two of them.

They looked into each other’s eyes trying to soothe the sad feeling that suddenly engulfed them. Noticing the calmness in his mother’s face, Affif said, “We must not be unhappy, right, Ummi? Daddy was a good man and he was lucky because Allah Ta’ala loved him. He chose to meet Daddy before meeting us.”

With a heavy sigh, Shafikah spoke, “Oh…Affif! Allah Ta’ala gave Ummi and Daddy a special gift when He gave us you. Alhamdulillah!” Small beads of tears rolled down her cheeks.

Affif wiped away the tears and smiled to cheer her up. Shafikah took his small hands, kissed them and gently placed them on his lap. She held his face in her hands, kissed his forehead and the tip of his nose.

“I love you, Ummi! Dinner’s getting cold now!” Affif told her with a smile and got off the bed.

Affif headed for the door.

“I love you too Muhammad Affif bin Muhammad Ashraff.”

Affif turned around and smiled widely. It was Ashraff’s smile on his small face.

Ashraff had wanted to name their son Muhammad Qutb after the name of a great Muslim thinker, Sayyid Qutb, whom he admired so much. However, Shafikah thought it was too classical for a boy in the nineties. They finally agreed to name him Muhammad Affif. It was the name of a brother whom Ashraff had adored and respected just like his real brother. He was an Imam who died a few months before Affif was born.

They had been reading the story of Caliph Umar and Affif drifted off to sleep when the story ended. He was now fast asleep on the couch with his head on his mother’s lap. Shafikah smiled at her sleeping son. How small and young he was, yet how alike the two of them were. Masha Allah! Seeing him in her life was like having him back all over again. Subhan Allah! He was right in saying that she would never feel alone in her life without him. Because she never had been alone ever since he left her and their son. A three-year-old Affif was sleeping next to Ashraff when he finally left them forever. Today would be exactly six years that he was no longer in her life.

Shafikah was gently pulling Affif into her arms to settle him in his bed when the phone rang. She looked at the clock. It was ten o’clock. Only one person would be calling her this late on this special day. She picked up the phone and greeted the caller.

“Assalamualaikum, Abang Yusuff.”

“Waalaikumussalam. How did you know it was me, Sis?” He was a little surprised.

Not wanting to tell him that she had guessed why her brother had called, Shafikah replied, “I just knew.”

Shafikah’s older brother, Yusuff, had been her sole protector since she came to Bloomingdale about twelve years ago to pursue her degree in Journalism. They had been very close since they were small. She was the only daughter in the family. Their eldest and youngest brothers nicknamed them “the twins”. Yusuff resided in the city after completing his business studies at Southern Illinois University. He now owned a wellknown food store in Bloomingdale, the only kind that supplied a variety of Asian and other halal food products. Yusuff’s wife, Fatima, was a graduate in Education. She had been a teacher at Bloomingdale Islamic School since its establishment the previous year – Fall 2000. Before that she had homeschooled her two children after quitting her teaching job at the Islamic Center in Bloomingdale.

Yusuff sensed a little sadness in his sister’s voice. He had called for the reason that Shafikah might have guessed. He wanted to see if she was all right. He felt bad for not calling sooner, but he was out of town for the last two days. Nevertheless, he did not forget what the day was.

“My little mujaahid is fast asleep?” Yusuff made an effort to sound cheery.

“Miles away in a sweet dream, insha Allah.” Shafikah laughed a little. However, there was a crack in her voice when she continued,”He remembered today too…as young as he is.”

“And you, my dear one?” Yusuff’s voice was gentle. “How are you?” He realized he did not have to bring up the subject. His sister had just brought it up. He knew his sister was a strong person emotionally, but even he himself was missing his late brother-in-law, especially on this day.

“Alhamdulillah, I think I’m fine…I have to keep it all together for Afiff,

insha Allah. Kak Fatima called and we talked.”

“I know. She told me.”

“Papa and Mama called too this morning. They sent their salams to you, Abang Yusuff.”

“Waalaikumsalam.”

Shafikah knew her brother wanted to know if she was feeling fine. He had been the one accompanying her to the cemetery for the last five years.

“You went to visit him today?”

“Tomorrow, insha Allah. Kak Fatima will take care of my morning class.”

“Want me to come?”

“It’s okay. I need to see him alone. You are not hurt that I turned down your offer, are you?” A flicker of a smile appeared on Shafikah’s face.

“I understand. Just give me a call tomorrow if you changed your mind.”

“Okay, insha Allah. Sorry I didn’t ask about your trip. How was it?”

“The trip was slow. Still snowing up north, but all went great, alhamdulillah.”

So much had happened during the last six years of Shafikah’s life with her son. After ‘losing’ Ashraff, she kept herself occupied with working and raising Affif, as well as learning more about Islam. She wanted to make sure she had deep Islamic knowledge to fulfill Ashraff’s wish for their son to be a well-brought up Muslim. She also never stopped writing and was an active freelance writer. It was something she loved and would always do in her life. Journalism was the catalyst that had brought her and Ashraff together. Then, more than a year ago, she completed her second degree in Islamic studies through a distance learning education program. It took her about three years to complete it. She had to do it - for herself, Ashraff, Affif and the Muslims in Bloomingdale.

Shafikah felt blessed to have this family by her side through the years. They had been a great support in her life, especially after Ashraff was gone.

He may not be in her life anymore, physically, but a big part of who she was now, was in fact Ashraff. Although the time they spent together was short, her life with him had taught her much about this life and eventually the journey to the next life. She knew that it was something that all Muslims would have to endure to prepare them for the precious and invaluable reward – a meeting with Allah (s.w.t.) in Jannah!

Timeless Gift

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Mon, 04 Apr 2011 17:03:00 +0000

After 3 months m.i.a, here's my first entry for this year. InshaAllah, I will be posting some chapters from 'Timeless Gift'. I'm hoping to get some comments from readers at Polaris Blog.

Indeed in their stories, there is a lesson for men of understanding. It (the Quran) is not forged statement but a confirmation of Allah’s existing Book ( the Torah, the Gospel and other Scriptures of Allah) and a detailed explanation of everything and a guide and a Mercy for the people who believe.

(Chapter Yusuf: Verse 111)

How to Improve Your Life

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Tue, 12 Oct 2010 09:15:00 +0000

Today I received an email and would like to share it with all of you:
HOW TO IMPROVE YOUR LIFE

Personality:
1. Don't compare your life to others'. You have no idea what their journey is all about.
2. Don't have negative thoughts of things you cannot control. Instead invest your energy in the positive present moment.
3. Don't over do; keep your limits.
4. Don't take yourself so seriously; no one else does.
5. Don't waste your precious energy on gossip.
6. Dream more while you are awake.
7. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.
8. Forget issues of the past. Don't remind your partner of his/her mistakes of the past. That will ruin your present happiness.
9. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone. Don't hate others.
10. Make peace with your past so it won't spoil the present.
11. No one is in charge of your happiness except you.
12. Realize that life is a school and you are here to learn.
Problems are simply part of the curriculum that appear and fade away like algebra class but the lessons you learn will last a lifetime.
13. Smile and laugh more.
14. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.

Community:
15. Call your family often.
16. Each day give something good to others.
17. Forgive everyone for everything.
18. Spend time with people over the age of 70 & under the age of 6.
19. Try to make at least three people smile each day.
20. What other people think of you is none of your business.
21. Your job will not take care of you when you are sick. Your family and friends will. Stay in touch.

Life:
22. Put GOD first in anything and everything that you think, say and do.
23. GOD heals everything.
24. Do the right things.
25. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.
26. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.
27. The best is yet to come.
28. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.
29. When you awake alive in the morning, thank GOD for it.
30. If you know GOD you will always be happy. So, be happy.

The Book Depository

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Sat, 09 Oct 2010 05:41:00 +0000

How many readers are aware of The Book Depository? It's an online bookstore that offers FREE DELIVERY of book(s) you buy from them. They deliver books to the following countries:

ANDORRA
ANTIGUA AND BARBUDA
ARUBA
ASCENSION ISLAND
AUSTRALIA
AUSTRIA
BAHAMAS
BAHRAIN
BARBADOS
BELGIUM
BELIZE
BENIN
BERMUDA
BRAZIL
BRUNEI
BULGARIA
CANADA
CAYMAN ISLANDS
CHILE
COCOS (KEELING) ISLANDS
COMOROS
CROATIA
CYPRUS
CZECH REPUBLIC
DOMINICA
DOMINICAN REPUBLIC
ESTONIA
FALKLAND ISLANDS
FAROE ISLANDS
FIJI
FINLAND
FRANCE
GERMANY
GIBRALTAR
GREECE
GREENLAND
GRENADA
GUADALOUPE
HONG KONG
HUNGARY
ICELAND
INDONESIA
IRELAND
ISLE OF MAN
ISRAEL
ITALY
JAMAICA
JAPAN
JORDAN
LATVIA
LIECHTENSTEIN
LITHUANIA
LUXEMBOURG
MADAGASCAR
MALAYSIA
MALDIVES
MALTA
MARTINIQUE
MAURITIUS
MEXICO
MONACO
NETHERLANDS
NETHERLANDS ANTILLES
NEW CALEDONIA
NEW ZEALAND
NORWAY
OMAN
PHILIPPINES
POLAND
PORTUGAL
PUERTO RICO
REUNION
ROMANIA
SAINT HELENA
SAINT LUCIA
SAINT PIERRE AND MIQUELON
SAINT VINCENT AND THE GRENADINES
SAMOA
SAN MARINO
SAUDI ARABIA
SEYCHELLES
SINGAPORE
SLOVAKIA
SLOVENIA
SOLOMON ISLANDS
SOUTH AFRICA
SOUTH KOREA
SPAIN
SRI LANKA
SURINAME
SWEDEN
SWITZERLAND
TAIWAN
TRINIDAD AND TOBAGO
TURKS AND CAICOS ISLANDS
UNITED ARAB EMIRATES
UNITED KINGDOM
UNITED STATES
US MISC. PACIFIC ISLANDS
US VIRGIN ISLANDS
VATICAN CITY

If you want to purchase "The Gift" from The Book Depository, click HERE.

Islamic Fiction Books

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Mon, 04 Oct 2010 00:03:00 +0000

With reference to Sis Niza's enquiry about Islamic books for children, I would like to share some books written for children by Muslim writers. You may visit IWA (Islamic Writers Alliance) or MWP (Muslim Writers Publishing) for more titles. Also check out Islamic books for teenagers and adults.

The Runaway Scarf
by Corey Habbas

The Emir and the Verse of Throne
by Fawzia Gillani-Williams

Stories
by Linda D. Delgado

A Khimar for Nadia
by Fawzia Gillani-Williams

Adventures of Musab by Fawzia Gillani-Williams

The Troublesome Eid Jinn
by Fawzia Gillani-Williams

Jameela's Great Idea
by Surriah Ingram

The Visitors
by Linda D. Delgado

There are many Islamic Fiction books written and published out there. Unfortunately, some Muslim fiction writers are unaware of the classification of Islamic fiction books written by Muslims. Please visit Islamic Writers Alliance for further information on this issue.

As a Muslim writer who DID NOT grow up reading Islamic Fiction books, it has been my wish and dream that every Muslim home provides a list of Islamic Fiction books for the young Muslims. I believe in cultivating the young minds begins from home. What we feed the minds of our children will be translated in their thinking which later reflected in their speeches and manners.

Children are the amanah entrusted to us from Allah s.w.t, but are we cultivating their minds in the ways that are pleasing Allah s.w.t? Or do we let them feed their minds on just anything they like without guidance? From my observation of being a teacher to young Muslims, this aspect of child rearing is mostly ignored by majority of Muslim parents! Definitely a point worth to ponder...

I am back!

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Wed, 29 Sep 2010 07:46:00 +0000

Allah s.w.t has reminded us the significance of time management in surah al-Asr. Indeed, our worldly life tasks and pleasures can consume so much of our time. We might forget the true purpose of living life as amanah from Allah s.w.t. To live it according to His laws as He has instructed us to do! Only then, we would feel His presence in our daily routines, be it a menial task of clearing the garbage can at home to being in charge of a staggering million dollar project at work. When we are cautious and wise in managing our time, even worldy tasks cannot keep us from remembering Him. They become part of ibadah for we do them in the way that would earn His pleasure. We are, after all, accountable for everything we do during our lifetime!

My apology to the readers of Polaris Blog for not posting for a very long while. Ramadhan has left and Shawwal is leaving soon. I hope it's not too late to wish 'Eid Mubarak' and 'Selamat Hari Raya, Maaf Zahir Batin' to all. Soon we will welcome another Hijri month...Dhulqaedah. I see here and there my brothers and sisters in Islam are busy making final preparations to be the guests of Allah in the coming Hajj season. May Allah bless every step of their journey and return with Hajj al-mabrur.

To Sis Niza....I do have the intention of writing English Islamic story books for kids, inshaAllah.

To Sis Fatimahazzahra....perhaps you should visit Kafez blog. Ms. Susan Abraham did an online interview with me last year....I shared with her bits and pieces of my life as a writer.

My third novel manuscript is reaching the third and last part of the story. InshaAllah, I will post a few excerpts before the end of the year. For those who have read 'The Gift', my deepest thanks to all of you. Do send me your comments and reviews of it. I would love to read them.

I hope to post more soon, inshaAllah. My du'as that Allah the Most Gracious is taking good care of you. Till my next entry....

New Year & The Resolutions

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Thu, 07 Jan 2010 10:21:00 +0000

A week of 2010 and three weeks of 1431H have passed. Some of us have started the long journey towards achieving the new year's resolutions. Some are still struggling to decide what their new year's resolutions are. Some are resuming the journey to fulfill their unaccomplished resolutions of previous year(s). Only you know how much effort you put forth last year and how much do you plan to work hard in achieving this year's resolutions. Be whichever group you belong to, I wish you all the best. The journey has begun and I hope everyone will successfully accomplish the resolutions made. As Muslim the above du'a is a precious accompaniment through out the long journey. May Allah Ta'ala shower His blessings upon us all this year.

Update on The Gift II

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 05:43:00 +0000

I have just read the latest email from Telaga Biru (TBSB) regarding the manuscript of my second novel. According to the Managing Editor, Tuan Haji Muhammad Zakaria, the marketing department has just received the greenlight to market the novel. The production department will now proceed with 'fine editing' and 'layout process'. They are hoping to release the novel before the year ends.

InsyaAllah, the dream to have 'The Gift Series' will materialize soon!

Get "The Gift" now!

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Sat, 23 May 2009 05:08:00 +0000

The Gift finally arrived in Malaysia a few days ago. Email fajrlib@yahoo.com to order your copy. You may also buy it from Barnes & Nobles or Amazon.com

The Gift is a love story set in exotic Asian Malaysia. The Gift is a story about a mother's last wish for her son - a gift of a new life. Her gift opens up buried unresolved pasts, hurts and wounds of two young people. Accepting the gift leads them to finally come to terms and resolve their past lives. The gift that comes from a mother's heart brings two people's hearts together while their memories of a mother's love lives with them forever.

Let me know what you think about the story.

Happy reading!

The Gift II

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 02:27:00 +0000

Alhamdulillah....Good news!!!

The Gift II will be published by Telaga Biru, insyaAllah.

Ramadhan Kareem!

Promise

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Tue, 20 May 2008 14:28:00 +0000

"I will always be there for you...promise!" Such a sweet expression but how many times have we failed to fulfill that promise? Or how many times has someone failed to fulfill a promise made to you? How would the person feel? How did you you feel? Betrayed? Dejected? Disappointed? Angry? Sad?

As a Muslim, always add 'a tag' whenever you make a promise. A tag? "InshaAllah/InsyaAllah" is a must tag for all Islamically permissible promises you make provided you do your best to fulfill them.

When you are not keen on fullfilling your promises right from the beginning, you might as well say... "I can't/won't promise you..."! It may hurt that person upon hearing it, but you are actually saving him/her from a greater hurt when you break the promise that you have made.

So, ask your inner voice...deep in your heart. Do you really want to make a promise? Would you do your best to honor it? Only you have the absolute answer!

Trust and Honesty

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Tue, 20 May 2008 09:23:00 +0000

Trust and honesty are the foundation of any kind of a relationship. A small lie or an unspoken truth may detroy the trust and honesty, thus the relationship. Trust and honesty for the sake of Allah will always remind you the responsibilities you are entrusted in the relationship.

A relationship is SIMILAR to a vehicle - it takes you through a journey - good AND bad experiences. Some people buy a car because of 'love at first sight', some takes a long inspection before paying for it and jumping into it for a life-time drive - or perhaps for an unknown length of time. When you buy a vehicle, be whatever it is, don't you set about finding out everything possible that you should know about it? The quality - inner and outer - of it? Of course you can't know all because it takes a ride to know whether it can really work to your satisfaction and taste. Once it is yours, you tolerate with it, sort of give and take. If you just couldn't stand it anymore, after all possible reckonings, you have to get out of it for good - let it go, sell it...

To begin a relationship, don't you do ALMOST the same thing as you do when you buy a vehicle? One person may like someone at first impression, develop a friendship with him/her, which then turns into a relationship for a lifetime - be it a friendship or a marriage. Another person may take a while to be in any relationship. Either way, being a human, you do enter into a relationship at one time or another within the span of your lifetime, be for whatever purpose that only you know it...

As a Muslim, there's always a way to seek help in making a decision - right or wrong before jumping into any relationship. Ask your inner feeling - in the deep core of your heart. If the heart feels good about it, it's a yes. If it feels heavy in your heart, then it's a no. Still in confusion? "Istikhara Prayer" is the best solution to opt for - asking the Almighty for the signs that lead to His choice for you!

Thank you for this life!

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Wed, 09 Apr 2008 04:14:00 +0000

Imagine if you could capture the best time of your life and keep it in a snow globe. Place it on your bed side table. Everyday when you wake up and every night before you retire to bed, take a look at it. What would be the words that come to your mind? The first few words that you should utter the first thing in the morning to begin your day and the last words before you carry yourself to the land of dreams? Thank you, perhaps?

We say the magic words 'Thank you' to people for the things we receive from them. In return, they give us more...a smile! We smile back. The exchanged smiles bring happiness to both sides and another 'thank you' should resonate in your heart...it's the ultimate thank you because it should be addressed to the One and Only...'Thank you, God'....'Alhamdulillah!'

Your snow globe is filled with that beautiful life, the kind of life that you would not have attained if it wasn't by His Grace...the Almighty One...So, shouldn't your first and last words of the day be "Thank you, God"...."Alhamdulillah"...for He has bestowed upon you that life despite everything you do, the good and the bad, in the life that He has loaned to you?

Write, write and write...

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 04:28:00 +0000

Write, write and write! That's the best line I read a long time ago when I had just started my journey to write my first novel...

Now, whenever an idea for the next plot, a scene or a dialogue comes across my mind, I just write them down...here and there and I keep all these little notes in my diary. When there are too many of them, I would sift through the notes and do this fun thing - putting the ideas together! It's like doing a jigsaw puzzle. The difference is that I decide what the picture would be like!

The Gift II

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Mon, 10 Sep 2007 05:59:00 +0000

Salaams and hello to all Polaris Blog readers! Teaching and managing the tutorial center have kept me real busy. Ramadhan is around the corner. InshaAllah, we will all welcome this much awaited month this week. I am editing a short story as well as a workbook for my students. Here I would like to share an excerpt from my second novel - The Gift II...

There he was on his bed holding Ashraff’s photo. Their eyes met when she reached his bed.
“Today’s the day, right, Ummi?”
Shafikah looked sadly into her son’s eyes. She nodded and whispered, “Yes.” The day was April 10th 2001. Six years ago, on that day, his father had left them forever.
“You were in my room today, Ummi?” His voice was soft.
Shafikah was there earlier and she was looking at the photo herself, but she forgot to put it back on the night table near Affif’s bed. Instead, she had misplaced it on the bookshelf, next to his father’s beret.
“Do you miss Daddy, Ummi?” Affif inquired when Shafikah didn’t answer his previous question.
Sitting on his bed and facing her son, she replied to him lovingly, “I have you, honey.” Her eyes glistened with tears.
“But do you, Ummi? Do you miss Daddy?” Affif’s face looked sad.
“I do and you know that, sweetie.” Affif placed the photo back on the table and hugged his mother. Shafikah wiped away a silent tear.
Pulling himself apart from the warmth of her embrace, Affif sat cross-legged on the bed facing his mother and spoke.
“Today’s Daddy’s birthday and his death day,” Affif said softly. He remembered this date very well. As young as he was, he was very attentive to people’s feelings and what happened around him, especially anything having to do with the two of them.
They looked into each other’s eyes trying to soothe the sad feeling that suddenly engulfed them. Noticing the calmness in his mother’s face, Affif said, “We must not be unhappy, right, Ummi? Daddy was a good man and he was lucky because Allah Ta’ala loved him. He chose to meet Daddy before meeting us.”
With a heavy sigh, Shafikah spoke, “Oh…Affif! Allah Ta’ala gave Ummi and Daddy a special gift when He gave us you. Alhamdulillah!” Small beads of tears rolled down her cheeks.
Affif wiped away the tears and smiled to cheer her up. Shafikah took his small hands, kissed them and gently placed them on his lap. She held his face in her hands, kissed his forehead and the tip of his nose.
“I love you, Ummi! Dinner’s getting cold now!” Affif told her with a smile and got off the bed.
Affif headed for the door.
“I love you too Muhammad Affif bin Muhammad Ashraff.”
Affif turned around and smiled widely. It was Ashraff’s smile on his small face.

The Gift

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Sun, 22 Jul 2007 14:16:00 +0000

The Gift is the title of my first novel. God willing, it is due to be published early next year by Muslim Writers Publishing (MWP).

The Gift was a mother’s gift to help her son rebuild his life, the life he so deserved, yet was denying due to an ill-fated event in the past. The Gift was the son’s love for his mother. The Gift was also a young woman’s gift to her own mother whose wish she failed to realize because of her unresolved past. The Gift became the catalyst for the son and the young woman to overcome their pasts while fulfilling a mother’s wish. How will the mother’s gift affect the lives of these young people? How will they get through their pasts after giving their gifts to the mother?

How do you let go?

noreply@blogger.com (- Polaris Writer) — Wed, 18 Jul 2007 16:14:00 +0000

Delicate as it may sound, in some ways or another, my two novels deal with this issue. How do you let go?

Letting go of someone or something very dear to you...no words can describe the feelings...you feel like your heart is broken into pieces...you feel suffocated....your whole body becomes numbed...everything in you is broken...emotionally and physically...BUT STILL...you have to just walk away...close the door...and continue to live your life...as life must go on with or without it, him or her. The first step is hard...so hard that you feel like you have no strength to move on, but it won't get any easier if you don't make an effort to take it...

Just remember... every existence in life truly belongs to only Him. Everyone you love...your parents, husband, wife, children, friends...the home you live in...the vehicle you drive...the wealth you own...the air you breathe in...the borrowed time you live on...every single thing you possess is actually borrowed. None is actually your possession to begin with. Some people will say you now live with the memories, but these too you would have to leave behind because eventually you too would return to Him, the Owner of everything in this life and the next...

Letting go may seem hard, but knowing and believing that everything has to return to the Owner would help to explain how you could actually let something or someone go. This would be the way to help you gather whatever strength that is left. Your life may not be the same but just go on. Be brave and walk away...learn again if you have to...learn how to live the life you have lived before. And of all, always seek for His help and guidance...for He never leaves you in despair. He is the actual source of strength as you walk away...as you finally learn to let go...