Moving Beyond Our Spiritual Jihad

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Lampost Productions recently posted an excerpt from Imam Zaid Shakir’s latest book, "Scattered Pictures-Reflections of an American Muslim“. In the excerpt*, Imam Zaid highlights the misguided ways of the “Muslim Zionists”.  The term refers to those Muslims who have made the establishment of the Muslim Khilafa, by any means necessary, into their life-long goal.  The term Zionist is used pejoratively as a reference to the Jews who sacrificed all their Judaic principles and values in order to create the Zionist state of Israel.  So we find these Muslim Zionists casting aside core Islamic tenets, foolishly convinced that the means justifies the end, in the hopes of creating an Islamic state.

While I wholeheartedly agree with Imam Zaid’s synopsis of this regrettable development, I do wish that he could have tempered his remonstration with a viable, holistic alternative.  It seems that he throws out the baby with the bath water when it comes to the role of Muslims in contemporary politics.  Are we to step back from the big stage of the political world and solely focus on reforming our selves?  Is the world of international politics and global economics so hopeless and vile that our only chance at success is to relocate into our ivory towers and focus on individual acts of worship? And if there is space for Muslim in modern politics, is it limited to the confines of the established political machinery (ie. voting, lobbying, boycotts, political parties, etc.)

I recall seeing a similar approach (of avoiding feasible solutions) when it came to our scholars’ universal denunciation of terrorism.  Most Muslims realized that killing innocents while claiming it to be an act of Islamic Jihad was haram.  But no scholar ever offered a viable model on the role of Islamic Jihad in this modern day and age.

Similarly, Muslims throughout the world realize that the process of creating an Islamic society based on the principles of Divine Revelation must not violate those very same Islamic principles.  I think it’s fair to say that most Muslims reject the approach of the Muslim Zionists.

But the question remains: How then can Muslims legitimately struggle to create a society based on the Quran and Sunnah?  How can Muslims live Islamically, not only on the personal level, but also in the socio-politico-economic realms?

Have we begun to embrace the Western approach to religion and politics as purportedly stated by Prophet Isa (as) "Render unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's, and unto God the things that are God's"? Is the S-word (Shariah) becoming as difficult a topic to broach as the J-word? Granted, there may be no practical role for Shariah and Jihad talk in our lives, but what exactly is the legacy we will be passing on to the next generation? Last year, in the midst of the furor over anti-Shariah legislation proposed in various states across America, many attempted to downplay the role of the Shariah as strictly a personal code of conduct.

Slippery slope, meet Muslims in the West.

To what end will we continue to emasculate and emaciate the pristine teachings of our dear Prophet (saw)?

For the record, just as I do not believe the mere abolishment of riba and the establishment of an economic system based on the Quran/Sunnah would, by itself, usher in a period of universal Islamic justice and Divine pleasure, I do not consider the struggle for the Khilafa and its re-establishment as a panacea for the countless ills plaguing the Muslims. That being said, the economic and the political struggles are equally as vital to our worldly and other-worldly success as our spiritual and social struggles.

Are we to attain spiritual nirvana before we are allowed to initiate pro-Khilafa or riba-free movements?

I say not all this in some jingoistic manner, attempting to rile up the masses with faux calls for Jihad and what not. My concern is rooted in the abdication of our collective responsibility to these foundational principles of Islam.  While it is reasonable, even expected, that not every Muslim is capable of implementing the principles of Jihad or the struggle for a Shariah-based society, at the very least we must all commit ourselves to intellectually developing as well as preserving these ideals in a manner most pleasing to our Creator.

* I realize that I am basing my conclusions on simply an excerpt from a larger book, so I may have to adjust my analysis based on a complete reading.

Sunday, December 18, 2011 | Labels: , , , | 9 Comments  

Ideal Picnic Weather in Saudi Arabia

Thursday, December 1, 2011

You all know the perfect picnic weather, right?  Bright, sunny day with a cool, gentle breeze.  Not too warm, not too cold. Colorful flowers dotting the landscape with an occasional fluffy, white cloud dotting the blue sky.

And if dark, gray clouds accompanied by a bitter, misty gust come rumbling across the sky, everyone packs up and goes scurrying for cover.

Well, not everyone.

Here in Saudi, where the scorching sun shines over the desert land for most of the year, a gloomy, dreary forecast – which most of the world despises - cheers up the locals and has them rushing out to the desert to snatch up prime picnic real estate.

They get giddy when the forecast includes light showers and a deep chill.  When this type of weather strikes (which typically will last for a day or two), many employees call in sick, kids miss school, and college campuses are empty.  Most of Riyadh can be found picnicking out in the cool, wet desert.

During my first six years or so, I used to get a real kick out of this phenomenon.  I would laugh to myself, ‘How in the world can one enjoy a picnic in such overcast, gloomy weather?’

Only after having lived in the desert climate for almost 10 years have I begun to appreciate the citywide excitement when a cold, winter shower hits the area.  You see, it’s a rare occasion, which brings with it the blessings of rain - much appreciated and celebrated in this dry, arid land.  It is only in these rare moments that Saudis are able to bundle up, start up a nice, warm campfire, and enjoy the wet, misty air with a cup of Arabic coffee.  

And the occasional drizzle on their picnic is a source of joy instead of dejection.  The picnic temporarily relocates into the vehicle, or a tent for the more adventurous intent on camping out for the entire day, and everyone goes back out when the rain stops.

The ideal location for such a picnic is anywhere water has collected, which is why you’ll find rain-induced lakes (really just glorified puddles) in the desert surrounded by jeeps and trucks, with people huddled around a fire and children playing in the sand.

Having grown up in Baltimore, I despised the cloudy, rainy weather and was overjoyed when I initially moved to sunny Saudi.  But it’s taken me almost 10 years to get over my honeymoon with the sun and now I too get “misty”-eyed (see what I did there?) when the weather turns gray and chill.

Thursday, December 01, 2011 | Labels: | 4 Comments  

My Girls

Thursday, November 24, 2011


Meet my two younger daughters, Ayah (left) and Sarah.  One will attempt to win you over with her charm.  The other will simply try to run you over.

Guess which one is which.

:-)


Thursday, November 24, 2011 | Labels: , | 6 Comments  

Dangers of (H)Over-Parenting

Friday, November 11, 2011

Ever since ever, I’ve been a strong advocate of old-school parenting – where the child is taught that the world does not revolve around him.  I strongly believe that a child ought to be taught to serve her elders, as a means of nipping in the bud any form of self-absorption or sense of entitlement.  And I’ve always considered it acceptable to allow a child to fall down and pick himself up on his own.

That’s why I absolutely love this article. I’m learning that parenting is a fine balance between expressing unconditional love for the child while simultaneously maintaining a level of indifference.  Crazy, right?

The child needs to learn that the parents won’t always be there to save the day. And this requires us to force ourselves to turn away when they are going through painful experiences. Obviously, it doesn’t mean that I turn my back on them when they are in dire need, but I need to give them space to fall down and get back up:

Dan Kindlon, a child psychologist and lecturer at Harvard, warns against what he calls our “discomfort with discomfort” in his book Too Much of a Good Thing: Raising Children of Character in an Indulgent Age. If kids can’t experience painful feelings, Kindlon told me when I called him not long ago, they won’t develop “psychological immunity.”

“It’s like the way our body’s immune system develops,” he explained. “You have to be exposed to pathogens, or your body won’t know how to respond to an attack. Kids also need exposure to discomfort, failure, and struggle. I know parents who call up the school to complain if their kid doesn’t get to be in the school play or make the cut for the baseball team. I know of one kid who said that he didn’t like another kid in the carpool, so instead of having their child learn to tolerate the other kid, they offered to drive him to school themselves. By the time they’re teenagers, they have no experience with hardship. Civilization is about adapting to less-than-perfect situations, yet parents often have this instantaneous reaction to unpleasantness, which is ‘I can fix this.’”

Also I really believe that so much of this helicopter parenting, where the parents hover over the child, is about parents and their inability to create a life outside of their nuclear homes.  With the extended family having gone the way of the 8-track and box-set televisions, higher divorce rates leaving parents isolated, as well as social circles becoming smaller and smaller, too many parents have nothing but their children left as social outlets:

We have less community nowadays—we’re more isolated as adults, more people are divorced—and we genuinely like spending time with our kids. We hope they’ll think of us as their best friends, which is different from parents who wanted their kids to appreciate them, but didn’t need them to be their pals. But many of us text with our kids several times a day, and would miss it if it didn’t happen. So instead of being peeved that they ask for help with the minutiae of their days, we encourage it.”

As a homeschooling parent, I embarrassingly admit that I have my hovering skills pretty much in high gear.  My wife and I are constantly aware of our children’s state of being.  We are greatly involved in their daily activities.  But the greatest difference, I believe, between my style and that of my counterparts profiled in this article is my lack of constant approval.

I try to balance my ‘shabaash’ and ‘atta boys’ with ‘you’re work is terrible’ and ‘get out of my face!’

Meanwhile, rates of anxiety and depression have also risen in tandem with self-esteem. Why is this? “Narcissists are happy when they’re younger, because they’re the center of the universe,” Twenge explains. “Their parents act like their servants, shuttling them to any activity they choose and catering to their every desire. Parents are constantly telling their children how special and talented they are. This gives them an inflated view of their specialness compared to other human beings. Instead of feeling good about themselves, they feel better than everyone else.”

The old-school father in me has always felt comfortable in setting limits for my kids.  And with kids being kids, these limits are always being tested, but it’s essential that the parent be prepared to say no and simply walk away.  Tears may be shed and emotions will be high, but the principle always overrides these temporary fits of emotion.

But the one place where I clearly feel I have fallen short is in giving my kids too many choices.  I am always waffling between giving them the ‘responsibility’ to make adult choices and forcing decisions upon them.  Am I properly balancing this act?  Not sure.

As a parent, I’m all too familiar with this. I never said to my son, “Here’s your grilled-cheese sandwich.” I’d say, “Do you want the grilled cheese or the fish sticks?” On a Saturday, I’d say, “Do you want to go to the park or the beach?” Sometimes, if my preschooler was having a meltdown over the fact that we had to go to the grocery store, instead of swooping him up and wrestling him into the car, I’d give him a choice: “Do you want to go to Trader Joe’s or Ralphs?” (Once we got to the market, it was “Do you want the vanilla yogurt or the peach?”) But after I’d set up this paradigm, we couldn’t do anything unless he had a choice. One day when I said to him, “Please put your shoes on, we’re going to Trader Joe’s,” he replied matter-of-factly: “What are my other choices?” I told him there were no other choices—we needed something from Trader Joe’s. “But it’s not fair if I don’t get to decide too!” he pleaded ingenuously. He’d come to expect unlimited choice.

When I was my son’s age, I didn’t routinely get to choose my menu, or where to go on weekends—and the friends I asked say they didn’t, either. There was some negotiation, but not a lot, and we were content with that. We didn’t expect so much choice, so it didn’t bother us not to have it until we were older, when we were ready to handle the responsibility it requires. But today, Twenge says, “we treat our kids like adults when they’re children, and we infantilize them when they’re 18 years old.”

And finally, I completely agree with this concluding statement:

“In fact, by trying so hard to provide the perfectly happy childhood, we’re just making it harder for our kids to actually grow up. Maybe we parents are the ones who have some growing up to do—and some letting go.”

One more thought. Throughout my entire reading of this lengthy piece, I was overcome by the lack of spiritual discipline that exists for so many of these families.  I’m assuming that many of them may be church-going regulars, but sadly Christianity is completely lacking on this front.  One of the pillars of Islamic teaching is the constant battlefront we must maintain against our nafs.  And when this is a foundational teaching in the home, I’m convinced that many of these issues of narcissism, depression, low self-esteem, and what not can be better addressed.


Friday, November 11, 2011 | Labels: , , | 4 Comments  

My Obnoxious, Parasitic Friend

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Well, I wouldn’t necessarily call him my friend. 
An acquaintance perhaps.
A colleague maybe.

Regardless, the fact remains that I’ve known him for a very long time and he’s always demonstrated terribly poor social skills in my company.  He consistently exhibits selfish behavior while rarely, if ever, willing to reciprocate my acts of generosity.  I’ve lost count of the number of times that I have taken this mooch out for a meal, allowed him company in our family outings, and provided him a place to sleep. His charming personality is such that I foolishly continue to bathe him with gifts while getting nothing in return.

I seriously doubt that he has any other friends besides me.  In fact, I know with certainty that he has no other friends, for no one else would tolerate his boorish behavior.  So while I realize I may be too accommodating of his unbecoming idiosyncrasies (to put it mildly), the poor soul really has no one else.

But still, I shouldn’t excuse his disgusting attitude.  In our younger days, he went so far as to cause several run-ins between myself and my parents.  At the time, I was too immature to realize his failings, so I embarrassingly sided with him.

And it doesn’t stop there.  His unwelcome contributions have played a significant role in countless arguments I’ve had with my wife.  She can’t stand that I continue to socialize with him, but some relationships are awkwardly inexplicable and simply impossible to get out of.

And worst of all, I’m convinced this disgraceful little runt has played a direct role in damaging my relationship with Allah (swt).  He clearly isn’t the most devout of Muslims, as he is sadly lackadaisical in his worship while uncomfortably exuberant in his worldly endeavors. Unfortunately I have found myself accompanying him on one too many of his indulgent adventures.  While I’m adamant on drawing the line when it comes to clear Haram activities, he’s always keen to push those boundaries.

He loves to eat.
He loves to laugh.
He loves to socialize.
Odd traits for someone who has no real friends.

Every time I tell myself that we must part ways, I find myself returning his phone calls and allowing him back in my circle.  No lie, but the last few Ramadans I’ve told myself that I’m going to purge myself of his distasteful company, sorta like TV or the Internet.  I semi-seriously joke with him that I’ll tie him up in the same way Allah (swt) ties up the devils. And every year, I last for the entire month without contacting him, plus an extra few weeks after, but just like the TV and the Internet, he inevitably returns to my life.

And here I find myself reading these pathetic paragraphs, wondering why in the world I continue to associate myself with this most ugly of beings.

I’m sure you’re wondering the same. 
But don’t judge me.
Seriously.

Because you may have an equally vile friend in your own life, who is more controlling, more obnoxious, more devious.

And worse yet, you may not even know about him.

He is your nafs.

I despise mine, yet I continue our dysfunctional relationship where I grant him everything he desires, while he joyfully continues to sabotage my life and after-life.

I wish I could simply un-friend him ala Facebook.  (sigh)


Thursday, November 03, 2011 | Labels: , | 1 Comments  

What He Said...

Thursday, October 27, 2011

As a follow-up to my last post on the struggle of squaring the two circles of our existence (worldly and other-worldly), I would like to point you all to a very similar post by blogger Shardul of Allah titled "Life Revolving Around Work".  He nicely captures my sentiments.

Just not sure how he was able to read my post and then copy it 6 months ago!?  :-)


Thursday, October 27, 2011 | Labels: , , | 3 Comments  

The Prophetic Life vs the Modern Life

Tuesday, October 18, 2011


Recently I’ve been thinking about how completely discordant our modern lives are with the Prophetic model.  The more one tries throughout one’s day to earnestly adhere to the various acts of Sunnah, the more it becomes clear that life in the 21st century is quite inhospitable to the ideal Islamic way of life.

Before I continue, let me be clear here.  The Shariah has incorporated, by way of Allah’s Divine Mercy, mechanisms that tolerate and accommodate, throughout all time and space, the countless extremes found in human life. So I find nothing inherently anti-Islamic about life in the fast-paced Internet age we find ourselves in today.

That being said, when I try to mimic the life of my dear Prophet (saw) in this day and age, the incongruity between the two becomes very clear.  My pace of life simply doesn’t afford me the luxury to dutifully carry out all the voluntary acts of worship.

For example, most Muslims perform their five daily prayers void of the due reverence that the Prophet and his companions displayed.  From performing the Wudu with peace and serenity to attending congregational prayers at the Masjid to praying all the Sunnah/Nafl prayers, it would take at least 30 minutes for each prayer.  Now, who can afford two hours (not including Fajr) out of their busy daily schedule *solely for their prayers*?

Furthermore, what about the various Prophetic litanies, especially after Fajr and Maghrib, which would take an additional hour each day?

Then there is the Sunnah of staying awake from Fajr to Sunrise, reciting Quran/Dhikr, and finishing with the Duha salat.

And let’s not forget waking up for Tahajjud in the last third of the night.

Oh and then there are the Sunnahs of sleeping, such as sleeping immediately after Isha and reciting Surah Mulk and Ayat al-Kursi before sleeping.

I’ve mentioned some of the daily Prophetic acts of worship - acts which, in past generations, even the most casual of Muslims vigilantly maintained.  But beginning with our parent’s generation, I’m convinced that that number has dwindled down to only the select few.

How can one possibly perform all these deeds while equally maintaining a productive role in 21st century society?

How am I supposed to ensure my place in the first row of the masjid for every prayer? How am I supposed to stop whatever I am doing when the adhan is called, repeat after the mu’adhin, and then immediately rush to the masjid?

What of visiting close relatives and the sick, as well as helping the needy?  When do I find time for other Islamic acts such as dawah, gaining knowledge, and teaching others?

In order to loyally observe all the above, I would need to drastically alter the way I live my life. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, would have to take a back seat to my adherence to the Sunnah – family, friends, work, play, rest.

I am coming to believe that the two - the Sunnah way of life and the modern life - are unconditionally irreconcilable.  In order for one to thrive, the other must be sacrificed.

Personally speaking, my only extended moments of adherence to the Sunnah way of life have occurred when I visited Mecca or Madina, where the entire day’s schedule revolved around worshiping Allah (swt).  Only when I have withdrawn myself from the modern life have I been successful in recreating a daily schedule even remotely close to that of the Prophet's.

Obviously, such an indulgence is not available to the vast majority, so we must make (major?) adjustments to our daily lives if we wish to faithfully imitate the life of our beloved Prophet (saw).

I’m not simply referring to incorporating a handful of Sunnah acts into our daily lives.   In order to holistically actualize the Prophetic way of life, we have to adopt his worldview when designing and molding our lives.  This includes our priorities, our pace of life, our modes of entertainment, our sources of sustenance, our relations, and so on.

Where to begin? 

I’m open to suggestions.


Tuesday, October 18, 2011 | Labels: , , , , | 10 Comments  

Looking to Animals for Guidance – Part 1

Wednesday, October 12, 2011


We are constantly in need of reminders; for we humans, by our very nature, are forgetful.  The Arabic word for human is Insan which shares the same root as the Arabic word for ‘forget’ – Nasa.  Among the more eminent matters that we forget, our very Creator is at the top of the list.  That’s why it makes sense that we have been commanded to remain in a persistent state of divine dhikr.

Another distinguished topic in need of contemplation is our lacking relationship with our Lord.  No Muslim is taken aback by the news that she is a slave of Allah (swt) and is obligated to fulfill the commands of her Master.  We all learned this in our grade school years and try to remind ourselves at least 5 times a day in our scripted ritual prayers.

Yet we are constantly falling short in our duties and responsibilities towards our one and only Benevolent Sustainer.

And so it is that Allah (swt) has created this world, not only with a utilitarian purpose designed for our carnal needs and desires, but as a universe bursting with signs (ayaat) reminding us of our loving relationship with Allah (swt).

With that in mind, let us examine two simple farm animals: sheep and horses.

As we dawn upon the days of Hajj and the accompanying act of sacrificing a sheep, many Muslims around the world purchase their sheep a few weeks early.  They will feed it and care for it until that fateful day.  And in the run up to that moment, one amazing trait in this simple animal stands out.  Once the lamb realizes that you are its source of daily sustenance, that you are caring for it, that you are its provider – a special bond is created.

The lamb will gravitate towards you. 

I recently witnessed this phenomenon with my own eyes, while visiting a sheep farm here in Riyadh.  I asked the shepherd to catch a young sheep so as to allow my daughter to pet and hold it.  I expected him to chase after one of the smaller ones and snatch it up, but instead he gently strolled over to the larger group while making some strange calling noises.  Then when he began to walk back towards us, one of the smaller sheep followed him out of the flock.

Astonished by this little animal’s behavior, I asked him how he did this.  In all my previous visits, the sheep are so frightened by us that they all jolt at our mere approach. He explained that its mother was not feeding it sufficiently, so he began to manually feed the lamb himself. Naturally, he explained, it came to depend upon him and now responds to his every call.

This relationship will continue so much so, that even if he were to lead this sheep to the slaughterhouse, it would willingly follow its master. No pulling, no dragging, no coaxing. 

Complete and utter submission.

All for what?  He merely provided the sheep with some food and it's now willing to follow him to the butcher’s block!

What then can be said of our relationship with our Sustainer?  From the moment we were in our mother’s womb, we have been beautifully provided for in a manner not even remotely comparable to the shepherd and the sheep.  Countless blessings, each and every day of our lives, from a Loving Lord Who asks for obedience, which in turn He will reward in the Hereafter with an even greater, unimaginable plethora of blessings.

Ya Allah!

Are we no better than a simple lamb?  

The lamb repays its sustenance with complete submission, yet we humans repay our Ultimate Sustainer with negligence, apathy, disdain, rebellion, and even outright rejection?!  At the first sign of difficulty, the rights of our Lord are the first to go by the wayside.  Or maybe when life is smooth and everything is hunky-dory, we take all the credit while forgetting to express gratitude to the Source of all this happiness.

How fickle we humans can be!

Let us learn a lesson or two from those ‘dumb’ animals with whom we share this planet.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011 | Labels: , , | 2 Comments  

The Awlaki Killing

Thursday, October 6, 2011

I won’t go into all the details as I believe the various talking points have been discussed and presented.  Those of you who are regular readers will know where I stand on the issue.  For all others, I simply sat that he shouldn’t have been targeted.  He should have had his day in court.  

I would only add that Muslims should not be so quick to throw out the baby with the bath water.  While he may have adopted abhorrent views that are clearly antithetical to our religion, his previous works that brought countless young Muslims back to the folds of Islam should never be discounted or disregarded. 

On the subject of his more fiery political views that he advocated after his release from Yemeni incarceration, Muslims must be get a backbone and be willing to acknowledge the truth regardless of who says it.  He was very forceful in stating his views against the US Empire that some Muslims in the West were simply not comfortable hearing; and so this group felt no qualm in throwing him and his entire message under the bus.

That was unfortunate because there are too few Muslim voices out there with the necessary level of stinging criticism.  If only we Muslims had such a voice – courageous enough to denounce the Pharaoh of our day and disciplined enough to adhere to the Prophetic way.

----

Despite all this mess of constitutional interpretations and legal wrangling over the targeting of an American citizen, what really upsets me is this tidbit of Obama’s unforthcoming approach to the whole process: 

“But the actual legal reasoning the Department of Justice used to authorize the strike? It's secret. Classified. Information that the public isn't permitted to read, mull over, or challenge.

Why? What justification can there be for President Obama and his lawyers to keep secret what they're asserting is a matter of sound law? This isn't a military secret. It isn't an instance of protecting CIA field assets, or shielding a domestic vulnerability to terrorism from public view. This is an analysis of the power that the Constitution and Congress' post September 11 authorization of military force gives the executive branch. This is a president exploiting official secrecy so that he can claim legal justification for his actions without having to expose his specific reasoning to scrutiny.” [Source]

So not only is the supposed evidence against Imam Awlaki being kept secret and hidden, but now even the legal reasoning and jurisprudential methodology on which the case is built upon has become a state secret?!

Wow.

What a stretch.

How much further can the government flaunt the very principles they are supposedly fighting for?  And to think, we all thought it couldn’t get any worse than Bush and Cheney.

Thursday, October 06, 2011 | Labels: , , , , | 2 Comments  

Disconnected – My Plight as a Cultural Salafi

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

I have no home. In fact, I have been homeless for quite some time now.

I don’t mean a place to sleep or park my car.  For that I have a house.

But I have no home.

My bloodline tells me I’m from Pakistan.
My passport says I’m from America.
My current address informs me I’m in Saudi Arabia.

America is too First World.
Pakistan is too Third World.
KSA is too Not-of-my-World.

And so, I remain overwhelmed with a deep sense of homelessness. You may counter that it doesn’t matter, for we are all strangers in this world and we are all travelers in our journey to the afterlife.  I agree.  But boy do I feel…displaced? Not exactly, for I never felt that I had that *place* to begin with.  Maybe rootless, for I remain without any roots, but I think rootless isn’t even a word. Disconnected is probably best – missing that connection to a rooted home.

I have no land that I can call my own.  I have no affinity towards any one people.  I hold no pride for any one language that I speak.  My dress, while often of the American flavor, is intermixed with Pakistani and Arab – and I feel no attachment to any of them. I equally enjoy a good ‘ol-fashioned burger, Chicken Tikka Masala, Palestinian Maqlooba and Saudi Kabsa.

And so I feel not wedded to any one land or people.

My childhood memories are embarrassingly flooded with the self-gratification of the American 80’s.  I get nostalgic when I hear any song by the Culture Club or the Knight Rider theme song. Pathetic, I know.

I was raised on prathas and pizza, and while I celebrated the Eids, I inescapably felt the seasonal joy of the Christmas season.

I speak fluent English with my wife and kids, passable Urdu with my parents, and broken Arabic with my Lord.

Living in Riyadh for nearly 10 years, I am still considered by most Saudis as my wife’s driver (especially since she sits in the back seat with the little ones).

And so at the end of the day, I feel no sense of cultural *ownership* in America, Pakistan, or Saudi Arabia.

Although I was born and raised in America, I feel spiritually alienated and am convinced that a US-based future is very dangerous for myself and my progeny.

Pakistan may be my ancestral land where my parents currently reside, yet I find it too ‘foreign’ and unwelcoming for my western sensibilities.

And while I appreciate the Islamic ambiance afforded me in Riyadh and dislike the superficiality of it all, I know that in the end, this can never be home.

So where do I go? I have no reliable link to the past of any one heritage and I have yet to find a cultural soil ideal for the seeds of my future.

When I was young, I would brazenly declare that Islam is the only identity and culture we need.  Growing up in America, I was convinced that the unifying powers of Islam mixed with the trans-cultural experience of the US would spring forth a new generation free from the cultural baggage of our forefathers and overseas brethren. I staunchly believed this new generation would be international and free from borders - without need for any one culture.

Nearly thirty years later, I now see the fault in my logic. 

Man needs roots.  Man needs a home. Man needs to be able to look up the ladder of cultural lineage and see a link to his ancestry and then look down and feel a sense of stability for his progeny.  Man needs to know himself, his past and his future.

But if after years of self-evaluation, one sees a medley of traditional mores and a mishmash of social customs and a jumble of cultural affiliations, it will inevitably cause detachment and isolation.

So I’ve come to the conclusion that just as we need a solid spiritual isnad (chain) linking us all the way to the Prophet (saw), we must also maintain our cultural isnad.

Most of us realize that the path of cutting off our religious ancestors and inventing a completely new approach to our deen has been fraught with errors and folly.  Similarly, I realize that cutting off our cultural ancestors and creating a hodge-podge of various traditions and customs will result in an inevitable feeling of suspension, discontinuity, and aloofness.

My isnad has been severed, leaving me without a land or a people; and now, having rejected all the established traditions and cultures that I have ever known, I find myself isolated and without any connections of value, like a cultural salafi, hopelessly clinging to my dubious claim of cultural 'purity'.

Oh, and don’t feel pity for me. Save it for my children.

Their mother is a confused Palestinian-American and their father is an even more confused Pakistani-American and they’re being raised in a most confusing Saudi Arabia, interspersed with yearly jaunts back to America and Pakistan.

Ouch.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011 | Labels: , , , | 19 Comments  

Exalted Rank of our Prophet

Friday, August 26, 2011

I’ve written before on the blessed interaction between two of the greatest prophets, Muhammad and Musa (may Allah bless them both) during the Isra/Miraj journey of our Prophet (saw). Indeed we greatly revere and assign a lofty status to Prophet Musa (as), whose amazing tale begins in his infancy when he was miraculously rescued from the clutches of Pharaoh and ends with his flustered attempts to return Bani Israil to the Promised Land.

But at the same time, we proudly realize that our very own Prophet (saw) has a standing before Allah (swt) that is unmatched. And this subtle difference between the two is further substantiated by the Word of Allah (swt).

First let us examine how Allah (swt) discusses His meeting with these two special Prophets.

When we hear from a dear, old friend who may happen to be passing through our locality, we will eagerly rush to him and take him by the hand back to our home in our best attempt to honor and respect him. And when another acquaintance contacts us wishing to see us, we may simply arrange for a meeting at some convenient location and ask him to come at a certain time. The latter is not rude or impolite – it’s just that the former approach is reserved for the select few.

When Allah (swt) referenced our Prophet’s Night Journey, He revealed:

سُبْحَانَ الَّذِي أَسْرَى بِعَبْدِهِ لَيْلًا
Glorified be He who transported His servant by night (17:1)

It is Allah (swt) Himself who sent for the Prophet. He dispatched a most unique escort and guide (Angel Jibril) with an even more unique means of transport (Buraq). And most important of all, Allah (swt) brought the Prophet (saw) to Him, in the highest heavens where even Jibril could not enter.

On the other hand, notice how Allah (swt) narrates the blessed meeting with Musa (as):

وَلَمَّا جَاءَ مُوسَى لِمِيقَاتِنَا
And when Musa came to the appointed place (7:143)

Allah (swt) set a time and place, not in the Heavens but on Earth, and Musa came there on his own, without any fanfare or pomp.

Then later we read about a special prayer made by Prophet Musa:

قَالَ رَبِّ اشْرَحْ لِي صَدْرِي
(Musa) said “Oh my Lord, expand my chest (heart)” (20:25)

When first assigned the momentous task of prophethood, Prophet Musa made this special dua’a, seeking Divine assistance in fulfilling the weighty responsibility. He asked his Lord to enable his heart to receive all the knowledge and wisdom of prophethood while also strengthening it against the slander and attacks of his enemies.

But then we look at our beloved Prophet Muhammad (saw) and the special treatment afforded him by Allah (swt):

أَلَمْ نَشْرَحْ لَكَ صَدْرَكَ
Did We not expand your chest (heart)? (94:1)

Without ever having to ask, our Prophet was given this same special gift of spiritual expansion.

So, why am I saying all this?

After the single greatest blessing of our lives, namely our faith and the ensuing ability to know our Creator, the pride and joy of being of the ummah of Prophet Muhammad (saw), the Beloved of Allah (swt), is a close second.

And so, we should all rush during these last few moments of Ramadan to express our immense gratitude to Allah (swt) for this extraordinary blessing.

Friday, August 26, 2011 | Labels: | 0 Comments  

Blast from the Past

Saturday, August 13, 2011

In these spiritually uplifting days of Ramadan, I was reminded of this post from several years ago about my best friend. Looking back, I felt it may have been a bit too cryptic. As you read through it, are you able to conclude that I was referring to my relationship with my sajdah (prostration)?

Anyways, I hope we all can appreciate this most powerful of blessings bestowed upon us by our Lord. The joy of humbly joining head to ground is one never felt by the vast majority of mankind.

Take advantage, especially in the remaining days of Ramadan!

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You are my best friend.

Words cannot describe how I feel when you visit.

When you and I sit together, I feel so …refreshed?…liberated? ...fulfilled? ...comforted? ...drained? ... depressed? …remorseful? I feel so…me. I don't need to pretend to be what I am not. You accept me for me.

When we talk, you give me a head rush. Really, my head goes into a spin with all my varying thoughts. Yet I never tire of our sittings.

When you visit, all my other activities are put on hold. You force me to concentrate solely on you. Normally I wouldn't accept such pretentiousness from anyone, but from you it's different.

When I'm with you, no one bothers us. No one. People see us together and they know to leave us alone. The world may think I'm crazy when they see us conversing, but those who understand your beauty, they understand.

And it's amazing how our visits last without you uttering a single word. I do all the talking. You quietly listen. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I smile. Often we both sit and stare at each other. Other times I release all my frustrations. Always you quietly listen.

I most enjoy our late night sessions. Your cold long stares empower me to confront the ugliness of my past. You sit quietly looking into my eyes, motionless, expressionless, undaunted by the heaviness of the moment. You strip me of everything, leaving me quivering in the cold of the night.

Then you grab hold of me. Your warm embraces give me hope, reminding me of the Mercy of the Merciful. Alas I do not have Jibreel (as) to come take hold of me, for that was unique to our dear Prophet (saw) when he was commanded to read. But your embraces will suffice for this meager soul.

But to be honest, for a best friend you don't visit me often enough. Yeah, I know it's my fault that I don't invite you, but sometimes I wish you would come over uninvited, like you used to. Remember those days? I would be engulfed in some tedious task or maybe just daydreaming my time away and out of nowhere you'd drop by. Those were the days! Oh how I wish to return to those days of spontaneous love!

I've tried thinking about Allah (swt) when you aren't around, but its just not the same. The sweetness of dhikr is absent without your presence.

Few are the creations of Allah (swt) that when gazed upon act as an instant reminder of the Creator. You my friend are one of those rare creations. You remind me of my Creator. He blessed me the day I met you. He blesses me everyday that I meet you. And I dread the day that He takes you away from me.

What will I ever do without you?! You are truly my best friend.


يَوْمَ يُكْشَفُ عَن سَاقٍ وَيُدْعَوْنَ إِلَى السُّجُودِ فَلَا يَسْتَطِيعُونَ
خَاشِعَةً أَبْصَارُهُمْ تَرْهَقُهُمْ ذِلَّةٌ وَقَدْ كَانُوا يُدْعَوْنَ إِلَى السُّجُودِ وَهُمْ سَالِمُونَ


"On the Day when man's very being shall be bared to the bone, and when they shall be called upon to prostrate themselves, and shall be unable to do so. Downcast will be their eyes, with ignominy overwhelming them - seeing that they had been called upon to prostrate themselves while they were yet sound [and alive]." (68:42-43)

Saturday, August 13, 2011 | Labels: , , | 1 Comments  

Pakistan Floods, One Year Later

Sunday, August 7, 2011

The Atlantic has a stunning collection of photos from the regions ravaged by the flooding. The first few pictures showing the before and after are especially amazing.

Very humbling. Make a special dua'a for them tonight when you break your fast.

Sunday, August 07, 2011 | Labels: | 3 Comments  

Repetitious Nature of Dhikr

Monday, July 25, 2011

As I was repeating some of the Prophetic adkhar the other day, I began wondering why we Muslims are so obsessed with the continuous remembrance of our Creator.

Surely Allah (swt) is in no need whatsoever of our verbal recitals of His Perfection.

Nor are we attempting to repay the impossible debt owed to our Sustainer.

Good deeds, maybe? Sure, we all accrue badly needed good deeds for our day of accountability in front of our Lord. But there are so many other ways to do so – including ways that may additionally benefit others (charity, visiting the sick, helping the environment, etc.).

I think most people, who regularly recite the name of Allah in the various forms of dhikr, believe they are achieving higher states of spirituality. Actualizing a state of constant divine remembrance is undoubtedly one of our greatest aspirations - a means of realizing divine nearness (qurbah).

But I had an epiphany about another possible explanation for repeating over and over and over the praise and glorification of Allah (swt).

It’s akin to the athlete (or any type of performer for that matter) who practices for countless hours shooting the basketball or kicking the football or practicing whatever his sport/art may be. His goal is to perfect that action, not for the sake of itself, but in preparation for that one moment when it will be most required.

For that one moment, in the heat of the battle, when the game is on the line, in front of thousands of spectators, in the face of an equally determined adversary, when he will either succeed or fail.

The more sweat, blood, and tears that he has poured into his practice sessions; the more likely he will succeed. His actions in the game will become automatic and simply an extension of his being. His movements will come to him naturally. His performance will flow effortlessly. While concentrating on the goal, all distractions will melt away and his perfected form will smoothly enable him to succeed.

Similarly, we are all in an epic battle against our avowed enemy. When he comes knocking on the door of our hearts, with his minions in tow, we will come under his sustained attacks – anger, jealousy, arrogance, miserliness, hatred, sloth, indulgence. That is when our countless hours of dhikr will come to our defense. We must be prepared to call on Allah (swt) without a second thought. We must all become like Yusuf (as), when he instinctively called to Allah (“Ma’adh-Allah!”) in the face of devastating temptation.

When the pressure is on, spurred on by the whisperings of an enemy who knows our weaknesses better than we know ourselves, we have not the luxury to step back and reflect on our situation.

We must react.
We can’t call a timeout.
We can’t look to teammates for assistance.
We can’t ask the coach for guidance.
We are in the spotlight and we must respond.

And only those who have “practiced” - losing sleep, forgoing food, repeating dhikr ad infinitum, sacrificing countless delights and pleasures – only they will react with composure.

Under the immense pressure of the situation,
when a spouse unjustly reproaches them or
when an unexpected compliment threatens their ego or
when their parent undeservedly disparages them or
when their sibling purchases the same car they’ve been dreaming of,
only those who have put in the effort will intuitively call on Allah (swt) instead of succumbing to the calls of their lower selves.

Monday, July 25, 2011 | Labels: , , | 1 Comments  

Refresh your Wudu

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Every now and then, we are struck with gentle reminders by the Most Subtle - Al-Lateef - (swt) that our fast-paced life is not the most conducive way to gain nearness to Him. This video is one of those reminder:


(h/t Deenport)

All too often we take our Wudu for granted, whizzing through it without any sense of spiritual awareness. Even this most basic act of worship, which many of us learned in our childhood, has the potential to be a refreshing spiritual experience.

But only if we allow it.

I found this video very effective in injecting some life into one of my more 'programmed' acts of worship. I really need more humanity in my worship. I guess that's what happens when we gain all our knowledge from books and mp3 lectures.

(Sigh)

Thursday, July 14, 2011 | Labels: , , , | 2 Comments  

Failure of the Schooling System (Part 2 of 2)

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’*

This oft-repeated question heard across countless primary schools quite nicely sums up the problem with schooling. For the purpose of school is not about what you want to achieve when you grow up or how you want to improve society, but about which career path you wish to choose. The purpose of schooling is to get you a job. The purpose is to create cogs for the economic machinery – you may become a dull cog (garbage man, waiter, teacher) or a shiny cog (lawyer, doctor), but cogs you will all become.

Schooling creates career professionals. This is pounded into students from day one with the constant question of what you want to become.

This is the major concern for high schoolers when they choose a university to attend.
This is the major concern at the university level when students choose which degree to pursue.
And this is the major concern when the college student graduates and ‘enters’ into society.

Education has always taken a back to seat to careerism.

After all, every society has its own barometer of success. Hunter-gatherer societies placed a premium on those with adept hunting skills. Societies based on warfare deemed an individual with excellent fighting skills as successful. Tribal societies perceived strength in numbers, so a large number of sons was considered invaluable. In our modern capitalist society, one who has a ‘nice job’ and thus has accrued the most wealth is considered most successful.

But as Muslims, we have our divinely-sanctioned definition of success – faith and piety. Regardless of how good or bad we may be at hunting, fighting, or shopping, our success is measured by our level of spiritual development and servitude to our Lord.

And so, schools have failed at developing humans and have merely become the gatekeepers for the job-based professional economy as well as the national military. They have perfected the means for churning out ‘human resources’, citizens pliant enough to subserviently fit into the capitalistic model or become unquestioning soldiers in the battlefield. Schools excel at producing eager consumers and smoothly functioning bureaucrats.

Additionally, I am convinced that sending our kids off to school for 8 hours a day to be raised by complete strangers contaminates the parent-child bond. It plants the seed of deviation away from the parent’s thought-process. It paves the way for the child to accept, maybe even celebrate, a difference of opinion with his parents.

Once this reverence is corrupted, the child ceases to see the parents as sources of guidance deserving ultimate respect, viewing them instead as guardians charged merely with the child’s physical well-being and sustenance. The influence and sovereignty of the parents is eventually replaced by outside institutions such as school, government, or pop-culture.

Instead of impressing upon them the importance of family, religion, and community (social values that schools of the past focused on), modern day schooling hammers into our children’s minds that the most important goal is to get into a good college. And they must get into a good college in order to get a good job. And they must get a good job so as to live a comfortable life.

And that, my fellow readers, is the crux of the schooling failure.

The essential goal of schooling is materialistic success. Anything more is icing on the cake. Enlightening of the child’s mind, if it occurs, is merely accidental. To say otherwise is naïve at best.

I’m choosing not to be naïve.

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*I ranted in a previous post on my issues with a similar socio-cultural phenomenon - the casual question of 'What do you do?'

Wednesday, June 29, 2011 | Labels: , , , | 6 Comments  

Failure of the Schooling System (Part 1 of 2)

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Having two school-age children (ages 12 and 10), education is of the utmost importance to me. I have sent both of them to school since KG and after years of persistent frustration, I have come to the conclusion that modern-day schooling is one of the greatest wastes of time.

I am convinced that schools are in the business of training, not educating, our children - in the same manner that animals are trained. Schools are factories of mass human training. They replicate the industrial model found in automated factories, churning out graduates in the same way factories churn out cars or laptops.

Schools produce graduates, not human beings. Schools excel at preparing their end-product for a capitalistic life in modern society. Schools provide a hierarchical education for a hierarchical society, embodied by the cubicle corporate lifestyle. Schools are perfect at producing docile, obedient citizens content with the status quo. Schools fill the role of creating cogs necessary for the machinery of society.

Schools do not engender a strong family or culture or religion. In fact, they undermine all of the above, replacing them instead with loyalty to the self, nation, and institutions.

The potential of most every child is stunted by this schooling system. I refer not to the ‘educational’ potential – that potential measured by report cards and SAT scores. Rather, I refer to the human potential – that potential to be a complete Adamic human being, who understands the true nature of the universe in ways the angels cannot even comprehend.

Our humanity is measured by more than grades and report cards. Life is more than homework and tests. Knowledge is more than some concocted curriculum taught at school.

Children and young adults need to understand man’s place in the universe. They need to actualize the higher purposes of life. They need to learn about the spiritual even more than the physical. They need to embody higher morals and ethics.

And this is not material that can be covered a few hours a week at Sunday schools. These subjects are the crux of our very being and yet, we have all accepted a model of education where these fundamentals are given lip service at our local Masjid. We have silently fallen in line with the rest of society, choosing to focus our children’s intellectual efforts on worldly studies.

And it’s not as if the schools excel in the worldly studies. In addition to the incredible absence of spiritual guidance, the schooling system fails to prepare children for the real world. Schools leave them disconnected, existing in a created space dedicated purely to children.

We fail to engage our children in mature topics, viewing them as mere receptacles for useless information such as Social Studies, Health, and Language Arts. When will they learn the affairs of the adult world? We coddle them in a manner that stunts their maturation process, leaving us with 23-year old adults playing video games and watching UFC.

Manufactured concepts, such as teens and tweens, thrive and take over the mind of young adults, robbing them of their productive place in greater society. Instead they are relegated to the periphery, in classrooms and study halls, playing nary a role in society at large.

After years of schooling my own children in this failed system, I have cast aside the artificial importance placed on my child’s ability to memorize data and regurgitate it for testing purposes. I have rejected all the counterproductive efforts required for homework, school projects, and exams. While the schooling system may prepare my child for the next grade or a good college or a good job, it fails miserably at producing a complete human being.

So I’m choosing to focus on educating my children instead of training them. Maybe they won’t become ‘successful’ engineers or lawyers or doctors (only a small percentage of all schooled children actually do), but my definition of success is not dictated by mainstream society.

Thursday, June 23, 2011 | Labels: , , , | 11 Comments  

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