A Child's Prayer

The Messenger of Allah (PBUH) came out to us for one of the two later prayers (dhuhr or asr), carrying Hasan or Hussein. The Prophet (PBUH) then came to the front and put him down (next to his right foot) said takbir for the prayer and commenced praying. During the prayer, he performed a very long prostration, so I raised my head and there was the child, on the back of the Messenger of Allah (PBUH), who was in prostration. I then returned to my prostration. When the Messenger of Allah (PBUH) had offered the prayer, the people said: 'O Messenger of Allah! in the middle of your prayer, you performed prostration and lengthened it so much that we thought either something had happened or that you were receiving revelation!' He said: 'Neither was the case. Actually, my son made me his mount, and I did not want to hurry him until he had satisfied his wish.'" (Reported by Nasaa'i, Ibn Asaakir, and Haakim)

Sujud used to be my favourite position in prayer. I've heard many people say that this is where they feel closest to God. These days, I would definitely agree, but back in the day, I used to love peering between my legs at the person behind me, or if I was at the back, at whoever was playing or coming in. And when one is exhausted, labouring through twenty rakahs of taraweeh, it certainly was the most relaxing position.

I remember quietly racing the imam in the recitations at the beginning of the prayer. No, actually, I used to race him on everything, feeling immensely self-satisfied when I bet him, when there was a significant delay before the next move, like maybe secretly I was better than him.

I used to race everyone else, too, every time we changed positions. First to bow, first to straighten up, first to prostrate, first to sit up. First to finger tap, first to salam. Standing up first was the most fun. I felt so accomplished, when I'd stand up and look at all the other old people slowly get to their feet. Only as a kid did it make sense that coming first in the so-called race of prayers made you somehow first in the sight of Allah (SWT).

I also experimented with the finger tapping, or arranging my feet (together, apart, inverted), or even in the way I positioned myself. Sometimes in rukuh it would be a matter of how low I could bow, or if I could touch my toes. In sujud I'd try to scrunch myself up as small as possible, or flatten myself on the floor. When I was really bad, I'd like to sit like a sphinx, just stick my head up and look around, at everyone else being bottoms up.

Regardless, I did my prayers. I didn't complain. They felt good. Taraweeh especially brings you a sense of peace, I can testify to this then and now. I remember figuring out the imam's routine at my masjid - when he started on surah al-fil (my favourite!), I knew we had reached the middle of the twenty, and all the surahs that followed would be ones that I definitely knew (the first half were always the seemingly never-ending ones). Even without that trademark middle, I used to keep count by drawing lines on the velvet green carpet with my finger. Looking back, I think the other adults were secretly relieved that someone was keeping count, because every now and then they'd look at me and ask for an update. It made me feel important.

Once, during Ramadan, I was praying taraweeh beside a friend at the masjid, when her aunty came in late. My friend looked around while the imam recited on, and watched her aunt hurriedly take off her shoes, drop her bag in a corner, and bustle forward.

"Has taraweeh started?" her aunt whispered loudly, looking at her. I let my chin press against chest and bit my lip. My friend gazed at her aunt.

"Is this 'isha or taraweeh?" her aunt persisted.

My friend continued to look at her. I don't know what her expression was, but I imagine it was something along the lines of blank.

Then the imam said: "allahu akbar", and we all bowed. Her aunt kind of got it then. I had to fight off giggles. We didn't talk about it afterwards, although I'm pretty sure everyone heard this exchange. Never mind all that I was taught in madrasah up until then, it was only on that night I fully appreciated focusing your gaze on the ground while in prayer.

What madrasah really did fuel, though, were my dua. Every time they reinforced that we could ask whatever we wanted and Allah (SWT) would definitely give it to us some day, my daily prayers for the next few days would conclude by me closing my eyes, clasping my hands, and furiously concentrating on asking for a hamster.

I never got the hamster, but hey, I'll gladly take my cat over a hamster any day.

Peace in,
Laila

Where Babies Come From

I remember the day I learnt that babies are not bought from special shops called Hospitals, that day when all the notions of angelic storks flew out the window.

I remember that our dad had just dropped us off from school, and my mother was still in the kitchen. My sister sort of caught me in that moment where we lingered in the hallway. She had this really evil glint in her eye, and she leaned in close and said: "Do you want to know where babies come from?"

Obviously, that by itself does not say much. But it was the tone, the kind of tone that suggests a nasty joke is going to follow, at your expense. And the expression, mischievous, devious. Without her having to say anything further, I knew it was something 'bad', and I remember covering my ears and running for it, down two hallways and out the back door, screaming 'NANANANANANA I CAN'T HEAR YOUUU!' all the way. I must have been 8 or 9 years old.

She never did give me the details, and I don't actually know when I learned those details, but I count that moment as the one that stole that part of my innocence. Clearly I had been anticipating such a terrible deed when it came out, so that's why I wasn't so shocked as to have the actual memory for the day.

But while I know my own experiences of learning where babies came from, I kind of took my sister's for granted, you know? I never did ask her how she learnt, because I was so devastated that she took that away from me. Well, yesterday, my older sister, Creepy Z, and I were taking a walk down memory lane, and I got the full story.

Let's rewind, way before I ran out screaming and my sister first turned to me with that evil look in her eye.

She's at school, and she happens to look over the shoulders of some guys in her class, on the computer, and lo and behold, what does she see? Some very intimate photos. Lots of people, lack of clothes. You know what I mean. Don't make me say it.

And her little self-righteous self is aghast. 

"What are you looking at? Why are you doing that?" she snaps. The boys kind of roll their eyes.

"Don't you know where babies come from?" one bonehead asks her. And she's still aghast, but now a little disbelieving too, and slightly shocked and disgusted. And a bit curious.

So after we fast forward passed our moment in the hallway of my house, you find her spending the entire day trying to make 'appointments' with my mother. My mother would be in the kitchen, serving lunch, then cleaning up, then making dinner, then cleaning up, and in all these various intervals, my sister'd approach.

"Mum," she'd say hesitantly. "Can I talk to you about something?"

"Yes?" my mother'd reply, her usual indifferent sort of self. My sister would blank, and with hurried mumble of 'nothing', she'd evacuate. It soon became clear she was not going to have That Conversation with my mother, so she had to wait for a certain someone else.

That someone is a girl called Sabriah. Subriah? Umm... wow. I don't even know how to spell her name. But basically, her family is really close with ours, our dads go back to sharing a house in their bachelor days, as they always remind us. Sabriah, she plays the role of both my older sister's close friend, and a kind of older sister for her too. She's the wise one. I have so much respect for her, because she was the one who got me to read Harry Potter. I don't know about you, but usually when my sister hung out with her friends, I'd be kicked out by all of them being the annoying kid sister, and they were never nice about it. Sabriah always made sure I had something to do. 

Anyhow, the point is, my sister kept all this turmoil inside until we visited them. The two of them disappeared into her room, leaving me with the piano that day, maybe. I don't really remember.

As soon as they're locked in, my sister bursts.

"Where are babies from?" she asks, finally allowing the panic she's been penting up to surface. "Because this guy told me this... blah blah blah... but I don't think that's right. It can't be right. It must be haraam. Allah would never allow something like that. It can't be."

Sabriah kind of blinks, and says: "Umm, I think you should say the shahadah, quick, I think you just went outside of Islam then."

I mean, they were both fairly young. My sister would have been 9 or 10, and I guess Sabriah would have been 11 or 12.

Anyway, as soon as my sister affirmed her faith again, Sabriah sat her down with a heavy sigh, one burdened with the weight of bad news.

"I'm afraid it's true," she said, much to my sister's horror.

And that's my sister's story. Why did I share it? Besides the fact that it amuses me, well, the moral is: my older sister was actually really cute once ^_^

So tell me, do you guys have stories about that one moment in your life? Know anyone else's weird or cute stories? I know a guy whose younger sister broke it to him, and he cried. My cousin also said that in our ickle village, if they don't learn it at school, the uncles break it to the boys just before they get married. Girls, due to our official change from girl to woman, learn it a bit earlier. And I mean, tell me, does anyone actually ever have That Talk with their parents, like I always see in movies and TV shows and stuff? I don't think I've ever met someone who has o.O

Peace in,
Laila

Secret Lives

Some time last term, Star turned to me during lunchtime and said, maybe with a little surprise: 'You have friends.'

This is very nice to know. It might seem like such a weird thing to say, because usually you don't really expect your friend to say something like that, but it has its importance. I remember mentioning, a post or two or three ago, that I don't have too many close friends because I keep people at bay.

But Star's comment came with the realisation that while not many people know about the workings of my head or my 'personal' life, people still talk to me. Or they have been this year, more than before. And when they make their confessions and unburden their woes, I realise that I seem to have uncovered a whole new underbelly in my high school. Sort of.

Now, with what I might tell you now, you might go 'awww', because it's a serious case of delusional naivety. You see, I know what teenagers theoretically get up to. The parties, the drinks, and what happens under the covers. But because I hadn't physically witnessed it before my eyes, never having been to one of these things, it never occurred to me that this actually happened with people in my school. Or maybe I knew, at the back of my mind, but never really comprehended it.

But last term, as I sat with one of the school captains who I'd newly made friends with, and some others asked her about something that happened at her birthday party...my God. It happens. It's all there. And although no one was talking to me, I was blushing mentally because for some reason it just felt so shocking and scandalous.

In a way, to me, it felt like a majority of the teenagers in our school led a secret night life. Of course it's a stupid notion, they're not exactly bashful about it, but just in my stupid head it felt like it.

Then it sort've runs deeper. As I mentioned, I had recently made friends with one of the school captains. Let's call her Helen. I think she's lovely, I do. I mean, she's been around since the beginning of high school, but I had never spoken to her because our social circles were so far apart... and they still are, for that matter. At least, I figured from what she told me.

See, one day she looked stressed, so I asked her how she was doing, and she sort of sighed and said it was all the 'drama'. My expression must have been sort of blank, because she kind of gaped at me, and said: "You mean... you don't know?"

Cue the embarrassed nod.

"Well, I don't want to tell you... because I don't want to backstab, nor do I want to weigh you down," she said. But she explained that because she's the social butterfly that she is, she has a wide range of friends who are forever having fights. They fight, they break up; they kiss, they make up. Every. Single. Day. Kind of like my friends and I in grade two.

And poor Helen gets caught up in this because they're always trying to make her take sides. Most of the time she gets away with playing Switzerland, but recently it's been one of her closest friends, and she mentions this girl... and I'm bamboozled. Because I've seen this girl, I've shared classes with her, I know her vaguely, and she's always so bright and bubbly and happygolucky, and I absolutely cannot fathom her being the sort of petty prima donna that engages in this sort of activity.

No judgement, but once again, it makes me feel like everyone is having this secret life that I'm unaware of.

Anyway, this post is not really about my oblivion. It's about how Helen tells me these intimate things without the detailed gossip (because that's only some of the stuff she's stressed about), things she can't say to her real friends, and I wonder why. I wonder if she realises how little she knows of me, too. And I wonder what else I'm missing from the facade of my seemingly carefree peers.

She's not the only one. I have another friend, this one is more long-term. Lettuce call her Preity. Last term, again, Preity was chatting with Star and I, and I have to let you know: she's what you call really bright and bubbly, happygolucky, hyperactive, made of love. We were talking about things, and one thing led to another, and eventually she told us her father was an alcoholic, he would get angry with her older brothers (who, you could say, are old enough to take care of themselves) he'd hit them, and her mother would faint during these episodes. He never hurt her, though. I don't know how commonly this occurs in her life, but...  yeah. And also, for all her high school life up til like, two weeks ago, her parents have never let her go out with friends. Ever. EVER. And - and this is a normal Asian thing, I suppose ^_^ - her parents have forced her to take all the scienceymaths subjects, which are just not meant for her. Her personality doesn't fit it, and I don't want to be mean, but I don't think she'll do that well. And she doesn't think so either, because they weren't subjects she wanted, nor is she good at them.

("And I thought your parents were strict," Star says to me. I have never thought of my parents as strict, but now I know that if I ever do... well. Well.)

And no one knew about this, at all. We were trying to pep talk her on how to deal with this, and we kept saying she shouldn't have to live like this, but - and this is why I say she's the real bright and bubbly, happygolucky, hyperactive, made of love of person - she was telling all this to us with this big beam on her face. And when we prodded her, she sort of just sighed carelessly and said: 'Well, yeah, I know, but I mean... they're my family. I know they're not perfect, but I still love them anyway.'

And in a weird sort of way, I understand her, and I couldn't push her any further because I felt like somehow, making her change that would ruin her happiness. She's the kind of person who would only be happy if she could make her parents happy. Nevertheless, I've told her that she can spill to me or call me whenever...

... but once again, how doesn't anyone know this stuff? I've known her for almost five years! FIVE! And I didn't know this!

Two of my friends' mothers have cancer. For one, she told me, but it's still a Big Secret, and for the other, my mother told me, and that friend doesn't know that I know.

And to think of the things that I don't tell my friends - it frightens me at all the possibilities of what everyone could be hiding. 

Recently, around the table in my kitchen, I've been hearing things. About the Swindler. About his house. About sending people to check for cameras. About going there at night. About getting the money back in not very nice ways.

And it terrifies me, because there's an underbelly going on in my very own home and I don't know what it is, but I can feel it's something big and it might explode and drag us all down.

Peace in,
Laila

Some final notes and things

I've been in school for three days now. I'm not dead yet, in fact, I'm feeling quite alive. Usually I freak out a little the night before school starts, but this time it just felt like we were picking up from the short mid-semester holidays. 

Star says we're just 'testing the waters', and it's bound to get worse, and I'm inclined to believe her. But... but I also think there's a chance that it won't be as bad as I think. I'm only doing four subjects (French, English, History, Legal) and they're all subjects I'm relatively good at, and I like. I have so many free periods as well... and it just feels.... 'spacious'. 

I could be wrong.

Anyway, the last week of the holidays was somewhat eventful. Things happened. I caught up with Mia, who's a Really Important Friend of mine, and perhaps I'll blog about her one day, but for now I'll just say it was pleasant. I'm glad she's the same, or more 'grown into' the personality she already had, as Star said. I visited a second-hand bookstore for the first time with them both, and was surprised at it's awesomeness. I bougth Quintana of Charyn :D

Also, something Extremely Significant happened last Saturday, and I'll definitely be blogging about that in the near future, I'm just waiting for some final thigns to settle down. It's a very Tragic story with a hint of a happy ending, and you absolutely must hear it. I apologise for the 'stay tuned, we'll be back after the break' attitude, but alas, if I really did write it up now, you'd hate me for the word count x)

Okay, I'm sorry, I cannot keep this in right now... if you plan on watching Dexter, or if you are watching it and haven't reached the fourth season, skip the next paragraph, okay?

RITA DIED!!! WHAT?! HOW COULD THEY KILL HER? WHY? SHE'S RITA. WHAT HAPPENS TO CODY AND ASTOR NOW? AND HARRISON? AND... WHYYYYYYY?!?!!? DEXTER LOVES HER. YOU CAN'T KILL RITA. SHE'S THE ONE THAT KEEPS HIM SANE. NO. NO. NO. NOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Yes. So I have been watching Dexter, and I really love it, but I can't bring myself to recommend because it has some Bad Things in it. I know a lot of you probably have seen worse, but still. There are intimate scenes and awful language... it's just the storyline is so compelling. And it's so my type. I can't stop watching it. I was supposed to finish up with the fourth season and 'focus' on school, but with an ending like that..... Dx

That being said, I'd like to recommend a movie or two that I watched these holidays. First up... The Little Rascals.

I have to put a warning on this one: adorableness overload. The movie is older than me, and you may or may not have seen it, but if you haven't, good heavens, watch it. It's so cute, and sweet, and fun, and... lovely. Yeah ^_^

Going with the 'old is gold' theme, I also watched... My Girl... which is even older than The Little Rascals.

I randomly decided to watch it because I saw this gif:

....And it always amuses me when little kids talk with such sophistication. So I had no expectations, I just watched it one night, and, I don't want to spoil it, but I bawled at the end. See? *sniff* I'm becoming emotional. I actually cried. Tears-running-down-my-face cried. That never happens with me and fiction.

One thing that I found interesting was the fact it was a 'coming of age' story. I mean, I think of 'coming of age' stories now, and it usually involves something in a bedroom, or alcohol, or drugs, or something really extreme and coarse. But My Girl just had the most innocent way of growing up... it's sad how times have changed. 

Reallllly loved it. Straight away a favourite. Do watch (:

I watched the second one too, which was nice, and I liked it, but not as good as the first.

I think I'll leave it at that for movies. Books, I read a lot, but you can go to my Goodreads which is somewhere and I can't be bothered linking you.

And I don't have a life :( Yesterday, I spent a good who-knows-how-long talking to my sleeping cat, telling him how much I loved him. He was sleeping. Then I listened to his heartbeat, because I'm creepy like that. It's like, I expected school to bury me alive, but it's not, so I'm stuck in this limbo, awaiting that stress and busy-ness and it's not happening.

Argh.

Anyway, I'm trying not make this angsty because the angst and stress and whinging will probably come as I fall back into the motions of school, so I leave you with Great News. 

KIKO GOT MARRIED!!!

D'AW.

My baby is growing up

:')

Don't they make a smashing couple?

Peace in,
Laila