Mum gave me socks (to wear to Taalim) and they’re very spotty. I like ’em.
I’ve been meaning to write about the recent Ijtima weekend away – most of us ladies spent the weekend at Rania’s house, since she lives in Roshnee. There was a lot of fun and a lot of noise (with 12 kids in the house we could expect no less).
But the best thing were those quiet moments after lunch or supper, when the kids had run away to play and the ladies were left sitting “pikking” at the food and talking. Ijtima vibes had gotten to us, so we shared stories and had many discussions about religion. We even played this awesome board-game, I think it’s called the 5 Pillars, and it made me realise how much more I need to learn, even about the basics. In the dead of night, Maleeha told us about Qiyaamat and what she had read…why is it that night time always leads to more ponderous thoughts?
We ate and ate (yellow maize meal even made it to the menu!) and we talked and talked. We bombarded Rania’s house but she is such a cool as a cucumber hostess that I have no idea if we frazzled her nerves. We tried to listen to some of the lectures and we asked the guys for summaries of the main ones. I heard that there were even some Nikahs at the Ijtima. It felt like school holidays all over again. I spoke to Khadeeja about the Barbie movies and I sleepily heard a whispered argument between Nuha and Imaan.
We sang Nazms around the dining room table and we attempted to help the Roshnee ladies with potato peeling…sadly, even though we all arrived armed with potato peelers in our handbags, we kept missing the potato peeling sessions. On our drive out, the courteous Roshnee-ans bid us farewell with ice cold bottles of water and friendly directions. The people of Roshnee were really hospitable (something like the Ansaar of Medina).
It was good to camp out on the lounge floor, have long languid lunches and rambling discussions on Deen.
Oh, the socks, I like them…So I took them with me on a weekend Mastooraat Jamaat. I didn’t think I would ever go on one of those, but I did… and it was awesome. My cousin Razina said that going in Jamaat is like a spa for your soul (I agree). Only focusing on one thing, leaving my cell phone and all other issues behind, it was like pressing the reset button on my mind.
It was nice to go out with some of the “old workers”, those ladies really took care of us newbies (especially Sweetie Khala, whose group I joined).
I heard a story about a revert travelling with a Jamaat telling a moulana that he is a “Thaalim”. When the moulana confusedly asked why the man was calling him an oppressor, he replied something along the lines of: My parents died without Imaan, and you people had not come to spread the message yet.
This is our duty. We need not have worry for ourselves only. We must have worry for the Ummah. We are not Indians, Black, White, African, European, Arab….we are Ummatis.