On Sunday, I was fortunate to be part of something beautiful, something that ripped through my very existence on this earth. It made me feel inferior, performing below-par, ungrateful for what I had in life- quite a shameful situation. On my way to the scene -the place in which the activity to take place- I questioned myself.
Why can’t I do better?? How can I not keep delaying things, procrastinating, and overcome my laziness?? I knew that I could do better, yet why the hesitation??
The activity: a brother reverted to Islam, before him, his sister had embraced Islam a few years back. I was told that he was a sceptic, always asking questions from his sister about the greatness of Islam. What Islam could possibly offer a person, and many other negative queries! In the end, he became a believer, and then decided to take the final plunge. He was ready.....ready to become a Muslim. I cannot fathom of his thought process before reverting, but Alhamdulillah, he came back to his true faith. Looking into his eyes, I couldn’t see any form of hesitation, signs of cold feet- this man was ready for the challenge.
And there I was, born a Muslim, not living the life as prescribed to me. I had a sinking feeling in my heart. Yes, I was steadily drowning in a pool of guilt. When he said the shahada, it was nothing short of marvellous- my hairs stood on its end. I swear. I’m happy of my little part in partaking in the ceremony.
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My idea of chilling this semester was blown to smithereens upon my unexpected realisation that I was short of one subject to graduate. How many ‘unexpected’ incidents can you possibly expect in your final sem? I’d compare this to a blunder of unrivalled proportions. Oh boy! I sure did it this time.
Do you expect graduating students to get everything right?? Wait.....don’t answer that question. I know all you people haven’t messed up the credit count to graduate. Would it help if I said that the subject is an elective, thus I lost track?? Naaah, even that sounds so stupid.
I feel like a dunce in Arabic class. It seems that everyone knows more Arabic except for MB and I. They even get the Arabic jokes said by the lecturer; at these instances both of us look at each other and make weird, but not-so-offensive faces. Women in the class seem to have Arabic genes rushing out of their pores. These women know the meaning of every word in the text book- almost all the words.
My lecturer for international management used the word ‘duh’ during class; referring to an oral midterm that is to come next month. She demands that everyone wear ‘proper’ attire to lectures, giving me the chance to wear my many shirts. Its official then, Tuesday and Thursday are ‘smart clothing’ days, and according to the lecturer its a sure stop-ladies-in-their-tracks endeavour.
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