EM JAY says...

She's learning how to drown

8 notes

I waited at the bus stop on my way home from work for at least 15 minutes last night. It was late and I was tired and I was doing some dhikr.

At one point I noticed three women walking up to the bus stop with one of them holding her little girl’s hand. The daughter was no older than 3 or 4, a real cutie masha’Allah.

I continued with my dhikr and with each bead click, they came closer. I kept watching the girl mentally comparing her to her mum. Her mum was very light-skinned, probably mixed race but I couldn’t be sure. The girl was darker (I’d hazard a guess that her pops is black) and had the same long curly hair as her mum but black instead of brown. I marveled at how alike her and her mother were. You know, in that slightly strange way where you go, ‘Ah she’s got her mum’s nose and eyes. I wonder if she looks more like her dad.’ Random silly things like that.

I kept watching the group, not staring, just observing and what should happen?

The little girl’s eyes meet mine and she begins to smile as if she recognises me. I defo don’t know the kid but her face splits into the biggest grin and she starts waving at me.

I honestly felt so happy in that moment. I grinned and waved back silently. The mum’s friends looked at me confused, then looked at the girl and laughed. The group walked past and the little girl skipped a little. With her free hand, she grasped the open hand of her mum’s friend.

And that’s it.

I thought to myself the little girl must do this a lot: smile and wave at strangers like we’re her good friends. It was wonderful and sweet and perfectly lovely having this tiny jug of innocence, brimming with genuine happiness, acknowledge my existence.

In the grand scheme of things, it was (seemingly) insignificant. One kid waves at an adult and makes them smile. No big deal. No news flash needed. But in the course of my whole day - my whole week so far, even - this remains vivid.

I’m only writing this now to preserve the memory of what happened; I can reread it some other day, maybe when I’m feeling down, and remember how God manifests His Beauty in the most mundane things.

It truly is the small stuff that counts.


Filed under personal random ramblings 3am thoughts alhamdulillah

190 notes

In my eighteen years of “I promise”,
I’ve learned that forever is only a moment, a breath.
A minuscule infinity that is heavier than plutonium,
And ever fleeting.
Forevers aren’t meant to last an eternity,
They are but small lifetimes with all the promise
Of a rising sun that is to set yet again.
This is okay.
When he takes your face in his hands like a reflection
And promises you forever, remember that Day is long.
And know that when the sun has set, when your forever is over, That you are eternal.
A phoenix lives and dies a thousand times,
Yet continues to exist just the same.
When you take his hands in yours and hold him like melting gold, Swearing forever,
Remember that Night is when your soul rests.
The sun does not rise nor set in the eyes of a galaxy.
Know that your eternity is a universe,
That there are enough suns and moons
To last you your entire existence.
So the next time you believe in a forever,
Remember that you are so much more than just that.
"Forever Is Not Eternal" - Sahar M.  (via iamsahar)

(via iamsahar)

4 notes



I tried.

"I tried"

The eye that sees
Things in its view,
Sometimes tied and tried
To aspects of time:
The old, the now, the new.

Yes… as fire burns,
We seldom remember:
The eye only sees-
It does not feel,
The tri-essence of time
Only asks-
It does not heal.

"What if I…"

Glorious is the trial!
Ugly is the regret:

A word with no ‘I’s,
Ugly for eyes,
Examined further,
Its ugliness is compounded
By its association
With time,

"Had only I…"

My salaam to the statement:
I tried.

Filed under saadisays this guy just... masha'Allah thank you poetry

191 notes

As societies become larger and inhabit a greater range of environments, and people become urbanized and detached from nature, languages and people shed specialized knowledge pertaining to the environment. English once made fine distinctions in animal names: a castrated goat or sheep was a ‘wether,’ a young female sheep ‘theaves’ (or ‘chilvers’ or ‘tegs’), and young sheep that are older ‘hoggetts’. As we have less to do with animals, naming systems fall into disuse — even new terms like ‘baby horse’ are inroads to refer to a foal or colt.
K. David Harrison, When Languages Die: The Extinction of the World’s Languages and the Erosion of Human Knowledge (via linguisticsyall)

(via nezua)

1 note

A request!


Hey Tumblr fam! I would really appreciate it if any of you who could work a camera and  knows a thing or two about cinematography could contact me! (Please be living in Melbourne lol… *whispers* I know most of you all aren’t from Melbourne.)

Also, I’d like to get in contact with any Muslim brother or sister, living in Melbourne, who does or dabbles in spoken word.


Filed under anyone from Melbourne?