Somewhere in America? Somewhere in America there is Muslim sister whose scarf is slipping slightly as she nods off on her train ride coming off the late shift. Somewhere in America a niqabi is frustrated in a Muslim clothing store because the “L” sizing on the jlbabs they sell is false marketing. Somewhere in America a Muslim mother tries to sooth a screaming baby while she debates whether the scarf on her head is large enough for an impromptu breastfeeding session. Somewhere in America a Muslim woman giggles with glee after finding the perfect shade of plum. Somewhere in America a Muslim woman is grateful that her headscarf style will cover the choke marks on her neck. Everywhere in America, a Muslim woman’s headscarf is not only some sex, swag and consumption, it also belief and beauty, defiance and struggle, secrets and shame.
Heart beating faster, taking in a shallow shaking breath as you’re running from one side of the pitch to the other. Voices calling to each other ‘Man on’. Your mind just occupied with that next shot.
The ball is coming nearer, a pass across and it’s yours. You prepare to accept it, striding towards it. The football hits the side of your foot, a perfect pass. Now needing to convert it into a goal standing now just a couple steps away from the goal outside the box.
You’re going to make it count, the scenarios have all played out in your head. There’s no way this isn’t going to be a goal. Leg raised back into the air. Suddenly you hear a slushing behind you, grass parting, dirt flying into the air.
The attacker missed the ball, but his foot carried on its journey colliding with your other foot. You fall over clutching your leg, referee didn’t look. Game’s still on.
You however you’re lying there wondering where your chance went, cursing up a storm about your injury, that doesn’t hurt anymore. The unfairness of it all.
The steam, your anger must be vented. You’re not about to start a fight, we’re among brothers after all. So you settle for swearing.
10 minutes after the game you’re still talking, discussing what happened, how the referee was so useless.
You’ve calmed down now, reflecting on the game, your anger, your swearing.
…I need to work on my temper when playing football…
Just came back from playing in a football tournament organised by the Isoc for Charity Week. We had 20 teams in total, it cost £42 per team to take part.
Well we lost all of our games. the competition was very good, but we also never played together as a team before.
It generally served me as a reminder, a reminder to keep calm in tough situations, in heated situations, in competitive situations. To work on myself and my temper.
When playing football it’s easy to let something slip, to let the frustration, your anger manifest itself in that way.
Swearing is normal in our society, so normal that it is a strategy, to raise for charity through it. For every profanity used you put something in a swear box. There even is an online version for twitter users at charityswearbox.
Swearing is not something that is condoned in Islam. Islam lays a lot of importance on character building so the Prophet saw. tells us:
“It is not the character of a believer to indulge in slandering, cursing, or immoral talk.” (Tirmidhi)
As Muslims we have to realise that whatever we do, whatever we say is going to be written by the scribes that Allah swt. has appointed to us. I’ll let Shaykh Kamal El-Mekki expand on that.
May Allah swt. the All-Knowing and All-Hearing forgive us for our lapses. May He swt. help us in guarding our tongues.
Der letzte Post ist irgendwie zu einem Monster mutiert, er sollte eigentlich noch diesen hier beinhalten.
Zum ZDF; obwohl ich bestimmte Programme und bestimmte Auffassungen von bestimmten Themen, von bestimmten Leuten, nicht immer leiden konnte war die ZDF-Mediathek sowie auch der Ntv-Livestream und andere Anbieter eine Art für mich Kontakt mit Deutschland zu erhalten. Auch jetzt noch halte ich mich mit dt. Nachrichten mindestens einmal die Woche auf dem Laufenden.
So jetzt zum eigentlichen Thema von dem ich im letzten Post so unheimlich weit abgekommen bin. Der Absatz oben war nämlich eigentlich der Übergang zu diesem.
ZDFkultur hat diesen Monat (September) einen Schwerpunkt rund um das Erwachsen werden, mit dem Titel “Her mit dem Leben”.
Ich hatte mir erst den Dokumentarfilm der am Montag ausgestrahlt wurde “Teenage Response” angeguckt. Beschrieben wurde es als “in intimen Gesprächen sprechen junge Erwachsene zwischen 13 und 21 Jahren von ihrer Körpererfahrung, von Drogenrausch, Prügeleien, Tanzen, Liebe.”
Hier kann man den noch sehen…Unter Beachtung, dass er eig. 160min sein sollte aber nur 69 min gezeigt werden, jedenfalls mir.
One thing I’d like to mention though, after the result of the elections were announced emotions ran high, I heard one of the guys rooting for the opposition shout out “yes we beat you!”.
Something I did not realize, was the absolute hate there was amongst some against Muslims. That in itself is nothing new, but to me seeing it at work this week, the rumors that were spread and also the outright attacks against the personality and honour of a convert brother who was running, brought it all home.
That night I saw a repeat of what is happening to us throughout the world.
We as Muslims, as an Ummah at this point in time are so terribly weak. Our standing as the just, the truthful, the fair is gone. Our character is gone. That is something we have to build up again. The Prophet saw. was know as Al-Amin (the trustworthy) and As-Sidiq (the truthful) before the revelation even came. So it is our duty each and every one of us to try to be exactly that. What an impact that would have on our society as a whole.
I am speaking to myself, and this is a reminder to myself first and foremost.
How often have we missed prayers, or delayed them for something stupid? Do we even understand, internalize and apply to our life that what we are reading in the Quran? Are the stories of the prophets as. inspiring us, enabling us within our communities to be the best we can be despite difficulties and providing us with halt and the realization that the prophets as. went through more hardships than we ever will and therefore carry on, on our middle path? Or are they just Stories in a book?
These are questions we have to ask ourselves over and over again.
Going back to that night what I will probably remember forever. Was the sense of unity, brotherhood and sisterhood I felt at that point. To cheer some of the candidates up we sang an arabic “song/chant” (don’t know what it is called, to do with the person being loved by all/thousands). We were discussing whether we should pray right there in the Student Union but decided that it could be interpreted by the staff and everyone else as some form of a protest. So what did we do? We loudly chanted our way to the prayer room lol
Heroes plural of he·ro (Noun) From Greek lit. protector, defender
Heroes are all around us, whether it’s that cute little baby who just managed to take his or her first step or the older gentlemen and ladies who, despite their age, are still proactive in what they believe in. Heroes are those, who spark emotions of inspiration and admiration in us.
I find heroes all around me. You especially, manage to gain my admiration and continuously inspire me. You my Sister in Islam. I might not be able to tell you directly how much I admire your strength in coping with what you go through, but maybe this is a start.