225: 16.3 New Zealand

On Friday morning I woke up to the news that 49 brothers and sisters died in the hands of a white supremacist in Christchurch. I was appalled, shocked, disgusted and felt an aching pain in the pit of my stomach. Throughout the day at work, I was unable to concentrate. Pictures of the victims, some young children, played in the back of my mind. I echoed the thoughts of many other Muslims living in the West: “That could have easily been me.” Feeling very vulnerable and raw, I texted A to be extra vigilant at the mosque today at Friday prayers. Despite the horrors of what had happened, never did it cross both our minds that he would not attend Jumaah prayer that day at the mosque that he goes to every week like clockwork - the same mosque that experienced its own version of a terror attack a few years ago.

As time passed, I have had the opportunity to process what had happened and how I feel about it. Trying my best to piece my thoughts together, this is what I managed to come up with.

Racism and Superiority
As disgusting as the event in Christchurch was, unfortunately it has many precedents dating back to the first ever event of racism - Iblis and our Prophet Adam a.s. Racism is the reduction of the other and the inflation of oneself. And even in the beginning of human history, this was the case when Iblis refused to bow down to Adam as he thought fire was more superior to clay. Self superiority (may it be race, religion, sex, nationality, etc) is always coupled with the reduction of others - sometimes, as in this case in New Zealand, the complete reduction of human beings to nothing but the label “Muslim Immigrants”. An inflated ego has no place for nuance or complexity - anyone who isn’t him or her, is by default inferior, and sometimes deemed not suitable to the basic right of life itself.

We have seen this is in the expulsion of Bani Israel in the era of Firaun, we have witnessed this in WW2 Germany and in pre-civil rights America. And we are frustratingly still seeing this in Syria, Palestine and Burma today. Painting a group of people with the same brush and the reduction of human beings to mere labels are dangerous things to do. When the tables are turned, the media has been quick to ask the Muslim ummah as a whole to denounce the act of a few. But using the teachings of our faith, one that hold no prejudices and one that teaches us that no one person is better than another, this time, we refuse to play the same game. We are not asking for all white people to burden the faults of a few white terrorists - but we do want recognition that there is a systemic problem at play. There are double standards that are hard to ignore, especially when leaders of powerful countries are not openly admitting to this matter themselves.

How should we react?

There is a Prophetic saying, “The parable of the believers in their affection, mercy and compassion for each other is that of a body. When any limb aches, the whole body reacts with sleeplessness and fever.” As our brothers and sisters in New Zealand are left in pain and grief, the ummah as a whole feel wounded. Being a Muslim in the UK, I feel connected to the community in Christchurch - in them, I see myself, in their families, I see my family.

However, if it was the perpetrator’s intention to divide us or for us to denounce our faith, he has failed like the many that have tried before him. In the light of tragedy, our ummah unites - as we did on Friday where in defiance, millions of people turned up at their local mosques for Jumaah prayer in solidarity with our brothers and sisters in Christchurch. In tragedy, we turn to one another and we turn to God. And at a personal level, I feel even more drive to wear my Islamic identity on my sleeve and to be a representation of my beautiful religion in my community. At work, at home, in public and in private, I am a Muslim immigrant living in the UK. Say it loud, say it proud.

But ultimately, we should emulate the Prophet (saw) and spread good and forgiveness. In the Battle of Uhud, Hind was a woman whose blood boiled against Islam and Muslims. She had hired a hitman to kill and mutilate the beloved uncle of the Prophet (saw), Hamza. She gouged his liver and made his ears and nose into a necklace. Upon seeing the body of Hamza, the Prophet saw weeped like he never weeped before and bade farewell to someone that he loved whole heartedly. Five years later, after failed attempts to resist the surrender of Makkah to the Muslims, she pledged allegiance to the Prophet saw. Instead of seeking revenge for the heinous acts that she had done to his uncle, the Prophet (saw) said, “By Allah swt, there was no household that I wished to destroy more than yours, but now there is no household that I wish to honour more than yours.”

Hatred drives hatred. The cycle can only be broken with love, forgiveness and kindness. So in times like these, let us continue the legacy of those who had come before us and continue to spread light. Let us hold strong to our faith and take comfort in the fact that they will never hate Islam as much as we love it.

224: 10.1 The Nuance of Gray

A few days ago, I was listening to a podcast by Brother Abdelrahman Murphy. He was talking about how easily we think things in a black or white fashion. Some things that we, as a community might say include, "What is the point of her wearing the hijab if her attitude is so poor?" or "Why bother praying extra sunnah prayers if he doesn't pay zakat?" or "What is the point of learning the Quran if he treats his parents that way?" This way of thinking even extends to how we think of ourselves: "I am not ready to wear modest clothing, there are so many things of myself I have yet to work on first."

The sad thing is that these all or nothing expectations that we put on ourselves and on others are not something that has been placed or mandated by God. He never asked for perfection, and being human, we will never reach perfection. What He does ask from us is effort - to try and inch closer to Him. So if it is starting off with wearing the hijab once a week or going to jamaah prayers on a Friday or even reading the Quran once a month, the point is to start somewhere. And not to let the fear of not reaching perfection deter you from taking the first step.

And do good even if you know you are doing bad - do what you can even if you are doing what you shouldn't. For in the end, good acts will eventually cancel out the bad. Have faith and continue on striving. And to those who deem others not good enough or not holy enough to participate in practices that could bring him or her closer to Him, please realise that you are just being an annoying obstacle to someone else's spiritual journey.

223: 26.1 Rain

It is not just a pitter patter outside this evening. It is a full blown gush of rain as if a flood had burst through its containing dam. It has been a long while since we have been graced with a Malaysian style rainstorm. Yes, we have been tickled with the presence of a snow shower one evening a few days ago, but tonight, there are actual puddles on the streets. Peoples’ hoods and umbrellas are out. Londoners, including A and I, are quickly seeking shelter in any nearby open facilities. Currently we are in Starbucks, 90 mins shy of its closing time. At least we are on the other side of glass window, where its warm and dry.

Similar to the wave of rain coming down from the sky, I felt a similar gush earlier today. Not of the osmotic sort, but that of an emotional storm. On this Saturday morning, A and I woke up slowly - later than we planned, but earlier than what might have been if we succumed to our desires for just one more minute of slumber. We got dressed and walked to the living room - taking our rightful places of work. Me at the end of the dining table. I like my seat, as it is close to the floor lamp and it is next to the window. Also conveniently placed, is the extension cable - handy if my electronics start to lose adequate power. 

In contrast, A’s preferred place of work is on the couch. He would move the cushions that crowd the grey ikea sofa to the side, and he would sit in the middle. Laptop open, there he would stay for most of the day. You could judge how long he has sat there by the angle of his back. As the day goes on, you could see A slowly slipping down the sofa - his laptop gradually migrating from tummy to chest. To this day, I do not know how he could work in such conditions, but hey, to each his own!

Usually on mornings like this, I would attempt to get some questions done. My speciality exams are quickly approaching - and although I have made progress, I am far from ready. But as I struggled through the question bank yesterday, the thought of landing on that particular web browser felt nauseating. Instead, I opted to do a little soul revival through studying an Islamic lecture instead.

I have been slowly combing through Nouman Ali Khan’s series of lectures on Surah Al-Baqarah for many years now. I think I started it way before getting married even - so it must have been a 5 year project at the very least - and I am still barely past halfway! So today, Nouman was going through the section on Ramadan and Doa. And it was on Ayat 186 where I uncontrallably broke down and cried.

In the moment he was explaining this ayat, I felt God’s love for me. It was like a shining beacon of light that pierced through the deepest cavities of my heart. It was thrilling and overwhelming. His love never fails. But at the same time, I felt the guilt of not trying hard enough to be close to Him, to have earned His love. Through the busyness of life and work, I am the first to admit that I have felt distant. But the most pertinent question is: Who moved? Ayat 186 has clarified that He will always respond and He is always near, so who moved?

He is always near, despite my failed attempts at gaining closeness to Him, despite my self-centred ways of neglecting my faith and despite the many many times I have disappointed Him and myself. But why would anyone do that for me? Only God does that because He is Most Loving, Most Forgiving and Most Kind.

Dear Allah swt, please accept this imperfect slave of Yours and I beg of You, please never forget or give up on me.


Oh look, it has stopped raining.

222: 23.1 The Interview

The afternoon after my last night shift, A and a barely coherent self boarded a train to Birmingham for I had an interview for paediatrics the day after. It wasn't the most ideal of arrangements - but I got to Birmingham in one piece, albeit with a throbbing headache out of lack of sleep and a hangry attitude that only a nap could cure. I wasn't too anxious about the interview, but I ready to get it over with.

The next morning, I woke up early and got smartly dressed into the new blazer and trousers I purchased earlier this month. I also slipped on my pair of smart black shoes - ones that when I bought them, thought would last the test of time but disappointingly became ripped at the seams a few months after. When the shoe cobbler at Timpsons told us nothing could be done for the rip, it was up to A and his knowledge of superglue that became the only quick fix. We took an Uber through the Midland breeze and journeyed to the Birmingham City Football Stadium.

I was surprised to see a familiar face amongst the candidates - a friend from university whom I have not seen in over a year. We had many placements together, and back then, we shared a lot about our individual lives. What were the odds that we would find ourselves in the same interview slot in the same city? But seeing her made me feel at ease - my nerves began to slacken and I introduced myself to some of the other candidates around the table (very unlike my introverted innate self).

The interview itself was quite an interesting experience. Modelled like an OSCE circuit, there were 5 different stations - each with a different theme. We began with a prescribing task, then according to which number you are on the list, you will go through a communications station, a reflective and clinical governance station, a clinical thinking station and a portfolio station. Once the ball was rolling, it ended quite quickly - and Alhamdulillah, I felt that it went well. Hopefully enough for me to get a trainee number in London, but only time will tell! I have done everything within my power, now its time to leave it up to God. For only He knows where best to place me.

In all honesty, I can't believe that I am at this stage already! My medical student self would have been floored to witness my future self taking the same steps as those paediatric trainees I admired so much at school. I remember looking at them and thinking "Will I ever be good enough to be like them?" Time is moving on fast, and now I am already halfway through my foundation 2 year. Then, inshaAllah, I'll join the ranks as a speciality trainee! No more adult medicine for me from September on out, hopefully!

221: 18.1 Transforming

After about a year and a half, I had my locks drastically chopped off! Although I wear the headscarf, as a woman, I do still treasure my hair and make it a point maybe once or twice a year to give proper TLC to it via trips to the salon. I like experimenting with different hairstyles - and the fact that if a risky plunge into hair styling didn't pay off - no ones the wiser is really liberating! So after last weeks trip to the salon, I feel much lighter, brighter and possibly mature?

Also 18 months in as a doctor, I have come to a stage where I am somewhat confident assuming that role. The feeling of being a complete imposter has been gradually shed, and when the nurse on the ward calls out, "Doctor!" I immediately turn when usually I would sheepishly think that she or he might have been referring to someone else. After gaining what little experience I have, I know how to handle emergencies alone or when it is appropriate to seek help. Its like alongside that haircut, I have also shed off my old timid self.

Just in time really! In a few days I will be interviewed for a paediatric specialist training post. Alhamdulillah, more than anxious, I feel excited. I do feel God has led me to this path (step by gruelling step) and He has prepared me well - I am ready.

220: 1.1 Resolutions

A and I do not really celebrate New Years. So yesterday after finishing my 12 hour on-call shift, by 11pm I was passed out on the sofa next to A, who was frantically coding away on his computer (deadline for his final project closely looming). By the time I was awake, it was already 6 hours past midnight - A who stayed up working said there were some fireworks outside but that was basically it. After morning prayers, we went to sleep to only be awaken at midday - how glorious it was to not work on a public holiday! I checked Instagram in bed where friends and acquaintances had documented their lively NYE parties. As much as that seemed thrilling for them, I on the other hand was greatly content to have no desire at all to be put in such an environment. My introverted self could not think of anything worse than to mark the end of a long year than to be cramped in a place with alot of (incoherent) people with loud music blasting in the background. That is why although as an international student in London it was almost customary for everyone of us to make the journey to River Thames to see the fireworks at midnight at least once - I never did. Why would I spend hours in the cold, when I can watch the festivities from different angles live and in HD on my computer?

But there are traditions of New Years that I do follow - resolutions. At the end of last year, I vowed to write more - and that I did. I wrote a blogpost everyday for more than a hundred days. And although that tapered off towards the end of the year - I found that exercise thoroughly rewarding. Writing has always been a passion of mine and I do want to keep at it - by hopefully writing one post every week. This year will also be a year of many changes - and going through these periods of uncertainty will inadvertently bring about alot of anxiety. As such, I hope to be more organised - to pencil in tasks into my calendar. To make financial goals and to keep them. And to carve out time to meet up with friends and family.

I also want to be more mindful. I started today by going through all my clothes and purging my closet from items I no longer need. I want to purchase things mindfully, make food with intention and spend time on my phone with purpose. Less consuming, more creating. And as a lover of the written word, as many years previously, I want to commit to reading books. Ones that I know I will easily like and those from genres I have yet to explore. Spiritually this year, I hope to make the pilgrimage with A, inshaAllah. I want to continue to make the effort in learning Allah swt’s Book and inch closer to Him. I want to fill my life with His teachings and make decisions with Him in mind.

A and I were walking along the river today to get some air. The sky was so beautiful mashaAllah! The hues of blue, red, orange, grey all mixed together into a magnificent burst of colour. It almost somewhat signified the year to come - its complexity, its ups and downs, its random nature, its surprises and its ever changing shape. I looked up and felt hopeful. We are ready for you, inshaAllah!