A few weeks ago, a guest scholar came into town and we all went to lunch. I sat directly in front of him, next to a friend. I suppose in order to spark conversation, my friend tells the scholar, “This is Raakin.” (The scholar already knew me, too.) And after a few moments, he adds “Our moms talk a lot on the phone. They’re good friends.” The scholar just nodded his head. I guess my friend felt awkward after realizing he spoke too much and then turned to me and asked, “Isn’t it true?”

There are so many things that I found uncomfortable. First of all, talk about your own mother all you want and I couldn’t care less – but don’t tie my honorable mother with yours, no offense intended. The way he said “our moms talk on the phone a lot” seemed so disrespectful. And why would you even mention that at all, let alone when meeting someone for the first time? It’s not relevant to him. How would that even spark a conversation?

Anyway, in other news, I found a quote on Facebook which I really admired. It described how I would want to be as a person –  a doorkeeper: I am fully qualified to work as a doorkeeper, and for this reason:

What is inside me, I don’t let out:
What is outside me, I don’t let in.
If someone comes in, he goes right out again.
He has nothing to do with me at all.
I am a Doorkeeper of the Heart, not a lump of wet clay.

~ Rabia Al Adawiyya

I thought it spoke volumes about how we should live our lives – or at least how I should live mine. Our secrets and the secrets of others should remain sealed within our hearts. The society around us, the temptations, the burdens, we leave outside of our souls. If someone comes into my life, I will not become too attached. I will not pry into his personal life unnecessarily. I will not let my curiosity wander outside of necessity. I am a person of use, not a leech or burden to society.

So many lessons from a simple poem. I hope I can become as wise and knowledgeable as the poet one day, insha-Allah.

I remember my mom told me this story (passed on from her grandmother) about this lady who was carrying a pot of milk on her head. As she was walking to the marketplace, she thought to herself how she would sell the milk. With the money from the milk, she would buy some eggs. She would then raise the eggs into chickens to produce more eggs until she could buy a cow. When she bought a cow, she would milk the cow and repeat the process over and over, until she becomes really wealthy. And when she becomes really wealthy, (and I can’t remember the rest of the story so I’ll piece it together with Cinderella) she will be invited to the Ball and dance with the Prince.

While fantasizing this entire cycle, she sways her hips in a dancing movement and spills all the milk in the pot.

And I felt this story is completely relevant to his wishful thinking. And then he begins to pour his heart out to me on the ten thousand reasons he needs to get married.

I know I’m dissecting this conversation with a very critical attitude, but it’s only to understand that our focus needs to be here and now. There are so many responsibilities, duties, aspirations, and goals to achieve. As I was reading in a poem by, I think it was Ralph Waldo Emerson, it said something about how our building blocks in life are made out of time and that we should leave no yawning gaps in between them. There is no time to sit under a tree and plan a fairy tale life. Actually, there SHOULD be no time to do that – but if there is, something needs to be repaired in the schedule.

And I’m no less of a victim to this act of fantasizing. After a while, it becomes a disease. We think the movies we watch is a storyline of how our lives should be. Tut tut.

Now I’m not saying that’s not good. And even if your intention is to lighten your wallet, that’s still good to donate your coins. But why not donate some crisp and fresh bills instead?

You know when you’re young, you like to carry adult accessories? You’ll see little girls carry purses, little boys carry plastic keys or keys that no longer work on a lock. So I remember when I got my license two years ago, I was excited to buy my first wallet.

But I was committed to one thing when buying a wallet: it must have a zippered pouch for coins. And it’s really simple. After one or two cash purchases, you should have spent most or all your coins. Don’t let pride get in the way. There is nothing wrong in taking out coins from your wallet to give to the clerk. Coins are money, too!

This all came up when I went to the post office yesterday. I’ll tell you one thing about post offices where I live – they’re all dull and boring-looking. It’s rather depressing to wait in the post office. But I have to sell my textbooks somehow or another. Anyhow, the post office employees will laugh at just about anything, I realized. I told the postwoman that I’ll give her coins and she said okay and went off to the back to put my package away. Meanwhile, I realized I didn’t have enough coins to give her so I said, “I lied, sorry. I don’t have any coins after all.” And she found this to be the funniest thing in the world. And she chimed in with her own joke by gasping and saying, “OMG How could you?!”

Humor is a beautiful thing. It fills your heart to make someone smile. And when they laugh, it’s an added bonus.

As I was praying, I could hear his voice (which is rather loud), saying, “Masha-Allah, he has no accent! His Arabic is better than mine, and I speak the language, you know? I tell you, he had a good teacher. Masha-Allah, no accent whatsoever.”

And whereas I do appreciate the undeserved compliments, it made me nervous and scared. Compliments tend to make me more self-conscious than I already am. And everytime I hear a compliment, to some extent, it motivates me, but on the other hand, I fear it will overtake my mind and make me arrogant.

For starters, I am, by no means, the “Imam.” That’s a title that will take a while to acquire, if ever. An  Imam is more than someone who just leads prayers, in my humble opinion. Although, it did make me happy to hear that they hold me in such regards.

Meanwhile, the Masjid has one heater, which is a metal disk. They put that heater where I usually pray (and this was not because it was meant for me – totally coincidental) so I prayed on the other side, in the hopes that someone will come that is more needy of it. But this morning, it was someone I know who is NOT needy of it – someone my age, as well. And I know I shouldn’t judge, but these type of things irk me. Our Masjid is filled with older people.

Which is another one of my concerns. Why are my friend and I the only ones under the age of 30-40 attending Fajr prayer?

So much to consider.

But more than that, it had a different sense of satisfaction to it. My parents pay for everything for me, so I have no dire need for money, Alhamdulillah. In return, I don’t take any fees from my student. But those small, thoughtful gifts mean a lot to me. It’s not that I want anything in return. As long as he learns his lessons, I am a happy camper. But it’s the fact that it’s a sign of love and respect. It’s actually much more satisfying than receiving a fee of some sort.

But at the end of the day, it’s all quite meaningless if Allah Ta’ala does not accept my humble efforts. Perhaps by me mentioning this deed of mine, it might lesson the reward, which is another reason I prefer to remain anonymous.

“Know that your need of Allah accepting your charity is infinitely greater than the need of the one whom you are giving the charity.” – Ibn Qayyim (one of my many role models)

Those words are so humbling. The ground and whatever is underneath it is intended to hold up the burden of this world. The birds were meant to fly in the sky, soaring above mankind. But as humans, we are a modest creation that walks upon the ground humbly. Nothing is done from our own accord except that Allah Ta’ala had decreed it to be such. No deed of mine or yours is worthy of pride.

But when those thoughts are truly seeded in my heart, only then will I taste the sweetness of the fruits of faith. Perhaps the half hour I spend with my student is charity, but not all charity has to be accepted. I can only pray that if only one of my deeds, small or big, can be accept, and that is my ticket to paradise – and that is eternal and indescribable happiness.

I remember years ago, my teacher told us that after the last person leaves the graveyard, that is when the deceased person’s accountability begins. He said he stayed until the very end once, and I thought I’d attempt to follow his footsteps in this matter.

So I stayed until the entire Muslim cemetery was clear. I looked left and I looked right, and nobody was there. So I took a stroll along the isles of tombstones. Some at the age of 98, others at 18, and I even saw a few that had passed within the first couple weeks of their birth. Death gives no warning.

Around me, during the procession itself, people were buzzing about how the deceased person was only 48. They were each relating the story of how he had passed. Meanwhile, in the corner was his son, standing there. I didn’t see him shed any tears, but he blinked and moved slowly. I talked to him before we had left for the burial grounds.

“I’m just worried about my family,” he told me. He’s a senior in high school and only 18 years old. He has one younger sister, and of course, a mother to take care of. After he had went away, his friend told me that he’s planning to push his college plans back since all this happened.

So after all had left, I stood beside the grave and recited Surah Yasin. The place had cleared within an hour. I was expecting to be there for at least two hours, waiting for everyone to leave. But nay. People move on with their lives faster than you can imagine. Even me. As soon as I had opened the door to my car, my mind immediately began to wander away towards my other tasks of the day.

It was such a unique feeling, to think that once I step foot out of the graveyard, his accountability will begin. As my mind forms crazy ideas like it always does, I wondered what would happen if I stayed forever. Would his accountability ever occur? But then even I would pass soon. As the person who lead the procession said, today was his turn and tomorrow is ours. Life is too short to hold grudges, and then the family announced that they seek forgiveness on behalf of the deceased man.

So he was lowered six feet into the ground. Prayers were made. Dirt was tossed.

And life moved on.

I’ve always said I wanted a younger sibling. But I think I retract that statement.

Well, it does has its ups and downs. Like that class I attended last weekend. There were two 13-year-old kids. I guess they found me to be approachable, so every break, they would bring me a snack from the back of the room, lol. Everytime they’d get up, they’d take my trash, too. I felt horrible. I don’t like being served or treated like that, but at the same time, I did feel honored. It gives me that older-brother vibe.

But that vibe can get irritating. I got a small taste of how I must have been to my brother.

I was writing yesterday’s blog post today (I know, I know; I cheated). All of a sudden, the little girl swings open my shut door and screams, “HEY, WHAT’RE YOU DOING!” And literally, all my thoughts just vanished. I was so irritated. And then she came to my desk with her dolls and repeated the question.

And then the little boys came in, telling me they broke the laptop (they actually just x-ed out the screen). So I had to rush over and refresh the browser. I have this theory that if you let a child off the computer for more than 100 seconds, he’ll start running around and screaming. At least that was the case with these kids. It’s not a babysitting method I’d use on my own children, but this was an extreme case.

I really hope and pray that if I have kids, they’ll be well-behaved and have proper manners, insha-Allah.

I do not do things to make money. I make money to do things.

It’s easier said than done. Just because it’s my motto does not mean I follow it to the dot. I love money just as much as the next guy – because we need money to survive in the capitalistic society that we live in. But it’s just that realization that there are things greater than money. The satisfaction of earning money is soon destroyed by the desire to seek more money.

But the satisfaction of giving a dollar to the person on the side of the freeway – that is priceless.

But money is overrated. I remember reading in my history book how people in the olden days would sacrifice their wheat (the only wheat available in the entire town) for their neighbor. But now food is an abundance in today’s society. Those were the olden days. The scarce resource now is good character and an open heart.

But if money is overrated, then what is there to give? To me, it seems to be time. Everybody wants time. And that, too, is a scarce resource. And it’s difficult to balance time for everyone as they deserve it. It’s a continuously fleeting and diminishing resource.

I decided to walk to the post office today. I usually take the car, but seeing that it’s literally right behind my neighborhood, I decided not to waste the gas. It’s ridiculous how dependent we are here in California on gas.

On the way there, my neighbor stops her car to talk to me. She had been feeling sick the past few weeks, so I hadn’t talked to her in a while. She said, “I bought all the ingredients for the cheesecake you liked. Once I get better, I’ll call you over and we can make it together.”

And it is something I want to do. But there isn’t enough time to do everything I want to do. I’ve actually been trying to cut down on the cheesecake and fatty foods, and I’m not crazy for it either. But it’s just that time that I can give as charity. In return, I hope that Allah puts blessing in my time.

Speaking of time and doing things we want to do, I’ve been cutting down on commitments. I dropped the presidency from the political science club and tried to limit my schedule. When there is too much on  my   plate, I become frustrated and restless. Take little and do it well. That is the best I can do for myself and others. It also gives me time to do other small deeds here and there, doing things in a calm and dignified manner.

Today, I met the assigned Imam for the Masjid I lead Fajr at. He asked me if I was the one that leads Fajr, and I said yes. He said it is a huge favor for him because he lives 10-15 minutes away and it is difficult for him. It was at that moment when I had caught myself. I did not want to judge him. In my mind, I thought, I also live 10 minutes away. At the same time, I tried my best to suppress these thoughts. I’ve been trying to think only good of others lately. It’s difficult when we live in a society who like to pounce on each other over everything.

But I thought to myself… If he was able to come to the Fajr Salaah, I would not have the honor of leading Salaah. Every morning, to start my day by leading a prayer, it’s a beautiful opportunity. It makes me read and practice more to myself throughout the day. Every morning, I open the Qur’an, asking myself what I’ll be reciting the following day. If it weren’t for the Imam-less Fajr Salaah, I would probably not be reading and listening Qur’an as much.

Moreover, the Imam has a family. One day I might be in that same position. Who am I to judge? We all have our own circumstances.

So, when he told me he was unable to come because he lived 10-15 minutes away, my only thought was, Alhamdulillah for everything in life. And I should be only grateful to Allah Ta’ala for giving me the ability to wake up and lead Fajr Salaah. And that is all. His life does not concern me.

To each their own.

Mind your own business.

And that’s what I have been telling myself.

It’s sort of like how when people tell me their secrets. Or secrets about other people. Sometimes they ask me for advice, which is fine. But other times, it’s just telling for the sake of telling. For me, that’s just a burden. Especially when it’s something negative, it taints that person’s reputation with me. I don’t appreciate that. I want to think well of everyone, and for that, I need a conducive environment. But that starts with me. Just like how I don’t want to hear those things, I should not say those things.

And I made the same promise to myself – I will do assignments as they come. I will not lag behind.

And just like every semester, I fail to do that within the first few days. But my goal is to catch up this weekend. Starting right now. It’s still early in the semester, anyway. The time is always now. If you ever want to do something good, you can’t plan it for a later time, because 99% of the time, you will never get around doing it.

And then there are those times when you see the mountain of work, you avoid it all together – but that doesn’t make things better. It actually just makes the pile bigger and bigger. But when that happens, you have to re-assess – lessen your commitments.

Which is what I actually did this semester. I resigned as the president of the political science club. Sometimes there’s a limit to how much you can put on your plate. I still believe there is time for everything, but it requires an advanced level of time management. I simply do not have that at the moment – still working on it.

But Alhamdulillah, one commitment I have been able to fulfill was this blog… Not sure if you guys noticed, but it has been one year of daily blogging! Alhamdulillah!