A story? No, just an incident

The truth be told, The truth be told I'm worried about the future holds, the future holds I'm starting to worry about Ray! Can't seem to get the lyrics out of my mind, especially the first two lines of it. Not to mention the fact that the tune of the song is endlessly circulating in my head like a mosquito locked in there, waiting to be killed by the pesticide of sleep, or to be replaced by another tune as powerful to the current state of mind. *whispers: which is not so pretty you know!* Is it me or is it that everyone I meet has eyes filled with endless unanswered questions about the future, with a touch of humiliation and worry. In arabic we call it "nafs maksoora", a broken self! Everybody is depressed, and everybody is complaining. No matter how much you have you won't be happy, that's the verdict of life in here right now. Everyone with enough wit wishes to get out of here, and less than 30% of those who ar

A black tender scarf over soft light skin. A black weightless cloak moving along, creating a cool breeze of air as it traverses the clean artificial air of the room. A small figure with thin little fingers emerging from the black sleeve, showing a clean palm well-taken care of, with the knuckles barely visible in a hand that is busy treating the colorful papers used to provide entertainment for them little ones. Elegantly yet shyly walks through the vast hyper store to bring groceries for cooking, the small hands push the cart around while the thin yet round face switches directions from shelf to shelf searching for the low-fat milk here, or the margarine there, maybe a can of sweet peas and a pack of basmati rice. Her steps upon the white shiny grounds of the store are barely audible, with the small white and blue sneakers moving in a mechanical hasty manner to cover longer distances given her relatively small build. You could almost listen a tap tap tap tap.. Paper bags cover her exi

The power of them words. One can do a lot of change through his use of words indeed! Pushing buttons, pulling legs, boosting self-esteem, providing love and support, a lot of positive things that can be done through the correct use of words. Amazingly the Khatib today was talking about this same fact. If you are in the street and you wish to make a change, see what the people are talking about in order to understand them. With the correct understanding and the efficient use of words you could hopefully be a positive part of society. But that's not what I want to banter about, I have other issues tonight! Being sentimental these days is not so healthy, in this world of devastating conflicts, where one can hardly ever live in peace without being harmed and without harming anyone. Turbulences don't have mercy on many souls, and fights have to be faught all the time, some visible fights and other invisible ones. Sometimes one even fight during his sleep, and the reason? Conflicts!

A Part of me (allow me to talk about myself for a while, instead of talking about my genius plans to save humanity from itself) LOVES recognition, and another part detests it completely. Are you having the same thing? When listening to and/or reading words of praise, thanks, congratulations for a good job, or any other means of showing care and admiration for myself, I happen to get this funny (peculiar) feeling that I want to run and hide, but at the same time fly up high in the sky with a suit and a tie.. Oh my my my! Yeah no human being hates to be recognized, yet the part that feels happy once recognition is gained should be asked a direct and blunt question: "So what? What's next?". I mean, you have what you've been seeking, people start telling you how witty or pretty or funny you are, and most probably as a human being you were showing how witty-pretty-funny you are even if you don't mean to exaggerate or show off the attributes of your personality. What ha

Our Messenger Peace and Blessings be Upon him has told us not to speak to people with what they do not understand, or else they might be led astray with our words. An aristocrat can't give a lesson about success in life to a bunch of factory technicians who could barely keep a loaf of bread at their table every night after a tiring10-hour workday, that just doesn't work, because no matter what the Aristocrat views the version of success that those guys can't reach, or at least 99% of them can't reach, simply because there isn't almost one thing in common between them both except that they will die and kneel in front of the Creator for judgment. And that in itself is a scary thought.. So where is the taqwa? Just a mere thought amidst the mist of life! Anyway, we are gathered here today to speak about the invisible. Can't recall that I have spoken about the invisible things I feel pushing and pulling on some strings that I didn't know exist inside my own exist