Falling in love

People fall in love. To my naïve ears, the phrase used to sound like a one-step action, occurring due to sheer fate or coincidence. He taught me otherwise.

Falling in love is a process, a struggle between me and my beloved. If his love were a well and you were to look inside, there would be no end to its depth. Each sunset, as I reflect at his well, mine grows deeper.

The struggle lies within the paradoxical nature of our love. His love for me is complete and boundless. Mine is finite, but growing. The deeper I fall for him, the higher soars my heart. In my falling, I rise.

The spider ascends, slowly, along the first silver thread of its web. With the slightest movement of light, the thread becomes invisible to the human eye. Yet the thread continues to exist and the spider resumes its unhurried dance. Each creature is on its own journey.

A few hours before dawn, when the universe sleeps, I feel the closest to him. He listens to my complaints, my fantasies, my regrets. With his gentle embrace, my insecurities slip away. He is the first and the last one privy to all the buried thoughts within my heart. The only one aware of the exact curves of my body. The feel of my skin. The shape of each of my teeth. The parts of my being that I appreciate and those that I criticize. He assures me that I am perfect, just like his love for me.

During this intimate conversation of two lovers in the final moments of darkness, lightning strikes. The hairs on my arm stand up in distress. My beloved holds me tight as the fresh smell of rain envelops us. He promises that the first ray of sunlight is near.

Allah, my beloved, my Creator, my One and Only God, has hundreds of beautiful names. One of my favorites is Maalika Riqqi, the Master of my Freedom.

Imam Hasan Al-Mujtaba (peace and blessings upon him and his family) was once asked, “What is the distance between the Heavens and the Earth?” He replied, “The cry of an oppressed person in supplication.”

On this sacred 23rd day of Ramadan, “Ya Maalika Riqqi, free us from the chains that we have built, shackling us to vain pursuits. Teach us to drown in your love, for in this drowning lies our salvation. This upcoming year, let your two angels keep us ashore, the left arm supported by your final Book, the right arm by your final Prophet and his family.”

Shrines of Iraq

Shrines of Iraq, 2016. Heavens on Earth.


North Carolina: A Mystical Journey

“The human thinks he has control over his life, until he realizes not everything is in his hands,” concluded Sheikh Mohamed AbuTaleb, after narrating an incident that he had witnessed a few weeks ago. As soon as I heard these words, peace enveloped me in a warm embrace. Twenty-four hours ago, I was worried about having to explore a new city on my own, after my friend who was going to show me around had to fly out of town to take care of family. And now, 8:30AM on this warm Saturday morning, I was seated at the front row of a Quran class at the Islamic Center of Raleigh, sipping kahwa (coffee) and nibbling on a piece of date cookie.

I had flown into North Carolina to interview for a graduate program at Duke University on Friday. Fortunately, I had enough time during the day to find the York Room, on the second floor of the Gray building connected to the Divinity School, and attend Jummah (congregational Islamic) prayer . When I entered and took off my shoes, I noticed that in front of the Imam (prayer leader) who was about to lead the khutba (sermon), a group of women was seated alongside a group of men. Having always prayed behind men, I naturally sat down on the carpet space at the back. That’s how I met Aydin.


Khutba (sermon) at Friday prayer

Since the lecture hadn’t started yet, I introduced myself to her and thus began a conversation that would transform my trip in a way that I hadn’t imagined. When asked about the Muslim community on campus, Aydin explained that the students came from diverse backgrounds, with varying, yet respectful, perspectives. For example, some women insisted on their right to pray alongside men, instead of behind and this had led to the fairly new seating space I had observed. The beautiful adhaan (call to prayer) drowned out our voices and we shifted our focus on prayer.

After the prayer, a rabbi joined to share an interfaith announcement, followed by lunch, which involved pizza, topped with halal beef. I was too nervous to eat due to my ongoing interviews, but I stayed back to speak to Aydin. She is an undergraduate studying cultural anthropology, on the pre-medicine track. Like me, she too had spent two months in Istanbul. She shared that she had used this opportunity to interview Uyghur refugees from her family’s hometown in Turkistan. While I was eager to discuss with her my interest in refugee mental health, I was also grateful to her for introducing me to Noura.


Duke University

Noura is an Egyptian-American research coordinator, and also goes by “Mama Noura.” One of the sweetest people I’ve met, she picked me up the next morning after sunrise, along with three other girls. Aydin, the first Muslim girl I met on campus. Mahnoor, a Pakistani-American who would help me successfully bargain over a cute recycled piece of art at the Durham Farmers’ Market (which coincidentally opens only on Saturday mornings). And Lateefa, a Sudanese-American who reassured me that she has lived in North Carolina for a long time and feels safe wearing her hijab (headscarf) here.

The ride together to the Quran class transported me to a decade ago. Every Saturday morning, I would take the bus with other young girls, riding past the fresh smell of the ocean in Tanzania towards our madrasah (religious school). Today, the crisp day would fill with new memories. The varying colors and shades of men and women who had gathered in the Quran class. The “#noban sundae” on the specials menu at The Parlor in downtown Durham, where proceeds went to Church World Service to aid refugees. And the warmth that flooded my heart in a foreign city because of a welcoming group of diverse women.

A human can meticulously prepare a hundred and one plans. With one small change, all plans can dissolve. And then, an experience awaits, more fulfilling than she had ever imagined.


Peaceful inside Duke University Chapel


Awestruck, looking at Duke University Chapel