Do not be among those who are ungrateful and thankless: My Story

I was born to Muslim parents in a Muslim household. But that was the extent of my being a Muslim. I used to get up for fajr prayers, yawning and grumbling because my dad’s clock was loud enough to awaken the dead. I used to hurry through my other prayers because there was television, college activities and my friends whom I just could not ignore. 

I fasted in Ramadan because iftar things seem more delicious when one is hungry. And I would hand out a few coins to the beggars who would knock on my car window because I had some loose change in my purse after hours of shopping. Yes, that was my extent of being a Muslim.

For the first 20 years, I breezed through my life without a care in the world. I had very loving parents esp my dad who could never say no to any of his four daughters. I had good brains which saw me through school and college. My wardrobe overflowed with colorful dresses and more shoes than I could possibly wear.

When I got married, I was blessed with a beautiful daughter. Next year, my second daughter was born. Less than six weeks after her birth, she contracted viral pneumonia and my life changed forever. It was the 21st of Ramadan and the time was just before fajr prayers when she breathed her last in my arms.

Nothing in my life had prepared me for the sorrow or anguish or pain or the disbelief that followed. We had money to admit her to the best hospital in town. She was under the care of top pediatrician and the hospital prided itself on its nursing care. I was surrounded by my family. She was supposed to get well and not die. Wasn’t she?

Then the anger set in. What had I done to deserve this? What had she done? Why did Allah give her to me in the first place if she was to be taken away just weeks later. Why did I carry her for nine months, and endure the torturous labour pains when she was not meant to live? Why did I have milk to feed her when she was not meant to stay?

I needed answers so for the first time in my life, it seemed, I really turned to Allah. I begged for peace and tranquility and somehow that made me open the Qur’an. It seemed to me that every verse had been written for me and it gave me comfort like nothing else could.

“Truly, it is by the Remembrance of Allah that hearts find rest.” [Qur'an, 13.28]

“And be patient. Surely, Allah is with those who are patient.” (Qur'an 8:46)

I had not been very patient, it seemed to me so was Allah with me? Had I been forsaken and abandoned? And then I began to find answers and it seemed to me that the more I read the Qur’an, the more I got what I sought.

“Do people think that they will be left alone because they say: “We believe,” and will not be tested.

And We indeed tested those who were before them….” (Qur'an 29:2-3)

Don’t we go through motions in life, feeling superior and safe because of our material comforts and wealth? How quickly our faith crumbles when a calamity touches us. How quickly our eeman flies out of the window and we lose hope when grief and sorrow come to visit? Doesn’t the Qur’an say:

“And certainly, We shall test you with something of fear, hunger, loss of wealth, lives and fruits, but give glad tidings to As-Sâbirin (the patient ones, etc.).” Qur’an 2:155

That day, Allah tested me with loss of life that was dear to me and it was up to me to be one of the patient ones. But how? Tell me, O Allah. And then the verse of Surah Rehman hit me.

“Then which of the Blessings of your Lord will you deny?”

Allah had given me so much my entire life. Did I ever thank Him for my loving parents or my caring sisters? Did I ever show gratitude for any of the blessings that He had bestowed upon me? Did I ever say a prayer of thanks for my husband who had tears of joy in his eyes when our daughters were born and wept when our younger one passed away? Did I ever pause to take stock of all the things I had taken for granted all my life and even think about thanking my Creator?

And then another verse that brought me to my knees

“Who say, when a misfortune strikes them: Lo! We belong to Allah and Lo! Unto Him we are returning. Such are they on whom are blessings from their Lord, and mercy. Such are the rightly guided” (2:155-157).

This transient life has no meaning if we do not understand its purpose. Each of us is here because Allah willed and death will certainly overtake each of us. Our prophets, most pious and beloved of Allah, also suffered calamities and sorrow and yet remained steadfast. Prophet Ayub (peace be upon him) said:

“What Allah has taken away from me belongs to Him. I was only its trustee for a while. He gives to whom He wills and withholds from whom He wills.”

When my Creator says that He never puts any burden on a soul that is beyond its ability to bear, who am I to argue otherwise?

“No burden do We place on any soul but that which it can bear.” (6:152)

Verse after verse of the Qur’an washed over me, driving away my despair and bringing solace. Today Alhamdulillah, I have two daughters and two very naughty sons.

Indeed which of the blessings of our Lord can we deny?

_________________________________________

My younger daughter is forever in my thoughts. In her memory, I buy school books for needy children, give away new clothes, toys and shoes on Eid and it is always a wonder to see the smiles that light up those children. Though she is not with me in physical sense, I am very fortunate because there are many women who never experience the joy and miracle of giving birth. Allah has given me this joy and for this blessing I am truly grateful.

At times, I wonder what she would have looked like today. Wearing a pretty pink dress and her front teeth missing? Maybe bent over her school books doing homework? Sometimes I still cry but I have found peace and I know that Allah is never unjust and our trials are a test of our faith in Allah and in Qadr.

The Messenger of Allah (sallallahu ‘alayhi wa sallam) said, “Strange is the affair of the Mu’min, verily all his affairs are good for him. If something pleasing befalls him he thanks (Allah) and it becomes better for him. And if something harmful befalls him he is patient (Saabir) and it becomes better for him. And this is only for the Mu’mmin.”

Subhan Allah!

My request to those who are reading my story is this. If you have parents or siblings or a caring spouse and children, if you have the ability to see, hear and do things with your own hands and if Allah has given you the means to enjoy comforts of life, please say a short prayer of gratitude to Allah every day.

Take some time to reflect upon the favors of Allah and thank Him as is His due.

“If you count the favors of Allah, never will you be able to number them. Verily, man is given up to injustice and ingratitude.“ [Qur'an 14:34]

Do not be among those who are ungrateful and thankless.

Because anything is possible

The sky is not the limit

If you put your mind to it

Once there, it’s just land beneath your feet. 

Look yonder, there are galaxies beyond.

To be explored and conquered 

Anything is possible

Reach above and touch the stars 

Aim high and decide your own fate

Aspire, struggle and endeavour 

Take your destiny in your own hands

Belief is all that’s wanted. 

An attempt is all that’s required

Because anything is possible!

Basics of investments

This post comes courtesy my husband who likes to read a lot about investments and financial planning. He says:

If you're satisfied with living on a paycheck that simply covers your present day expenses , then you need to change your financial attitude immediately. 

This is one of the many ways to ensure that in your old-age, you will be living on hard times. 

Old-age benefits, pensions , etc. cannot support your current lifestyle in the future. Even if you are saving up cash now, keep in mind that inflation eats up the value of your money. A dollar tomorrow cannot buy the same things that a dollar today can, so simply saving cash will not do the trick.

Any excess money above and beyond the emergency fund should be invested so that the money goes to work for you and increases your wealth . When you invest, you spend money to acquire a thing of value, i.e an asset.

The different avenues of investing include: real-estate , shares/stocks, mutual funds, commodities, etc. Each investment can have a different purpose, i.e it can be held by the investor because it increases in value or it can generate a periodic income .

Starting out:

When you start out, you won’t know what the best type of investment for you is. It is, therefore, important that you initially invest in the most defensive manner possible.

In other words, put your money in highly reliable and low risk investments. These are likely to generate less income, but this accounts for security. Don't be enticed by investments with high returns, because, inevitably, they also entail high risk of losing your investment.

For a moment, consider what you would have to go through if you lost your investment – and remember to keep this advice close to your heart.

Another method of ensuring the security of investment is to diversify, such as spread your savings to different types of investments. This way if one investment is doing poorly, the others will provide you a cushion to any losses.

The easiest way is to put your money in a reputable mutual fund where an experienced person will manage your money to keep it safe and profitable. The amounts required are low and can be built upon with time.

Where to invest:

A good investment is something that benefits you during difficult times or when an important need arises. You can invest your money in real estate, shares/stocks, mutual funds, commodities, etc.

Each investment can have a different purpose, i.e it can be held by the investor because it increases in value or it can generate a periodic income.

For example, you may invest in the stock or shares of a company. If it is a stock of a good company, i.e if the business fundamentals of the company are good, then you may periodically receive dividends from the company as it earns profits. With time, the value of the stock may also increase as the company grows so that when you have to sell the share, you will sell it at a profit.

With some assets, you need to continue spending money on them even after you have acquired them. So, if you buy an apartment, the apartment will be generating an income for you through rent.

However, you will be spending money on maintenance and property-tax As long as the balance of expenses and income means that there is (a) a net inflow of cash and (b) in a suitable amount, then that investment may be considered fruitful.

Educating yourself is the most important investment you can make and the one which will generate the greatest returns. Don’t take this casually. Otherwise others and not you will be in control of your money.

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There are many categories like science, history, geography, movies etc. You have to answer multiple choice questions and each question has to be answered within 10 seconds. Keep playing and keep earning points.

The minimum payment amount is $10. I have not reached this amount as yet so I cannot really say whether the site really pays but it does look legitimate.

The fun part is you gain knowledge and have a lot of fun. If you want to join the site,please sign up using this code:

http://www.quiz-trivia.com/registration.aspx?ref=Dawnwriter

Thanks and see you on Quizbook.

DISCLAIMER:

I joined Quizbook just a few days ago and have earned 80 cents so far so I cannot really say if the site is legit or scam. I have not reached minimum amount as yet. So whoever joins does so at his or her own risk. I am learning lots of new facts so it is fun in its own way.

UPDATE: 

The rules at Quizbook are now changed and the minimum payment is now $5. I requested payment and got paid promptly. However the rate of each correct answer is now 0.7 point instead of 1 point so now it takes longer to reach payout. (20 correct answers mean 14 points instead of 20 points).

A poem dedicated to children of war hit zones in this world

Image credit: Pixabay.com

The orphan sits on the pavement 

His heart full of fear and woe 

His parents were killed in the bombardment, 

The bombardment of the bloody war.

The orphan sits on the pavement, 

A locket hangs round his neck. 

On the back is an inscription__ 

‘With Love from Mum and Dad’.

The orphan sits on the pavement, 

A beautiful picture in his mind. 

The picture of his parents,

 A likeness no one can find.

As the blue dome darkens 

The street lights come to life. 

He has no friends to go to 

He knows not even strangers in his life.

The orphan sits on the pavement. 

Happiness unknown to his heart. 

His parents were killed in the bombardment. 

The bombardment of that bloody war.

The Brave Young Soldier

Zawar jammed the green cap on his head. His bright eyes were shining with joy and pride.

“How do I look, grandpa?” He turned an eager face towards his grandfather.

“Just like a brave fauji jawan (young soldier),” his grandfather replied fondly and Zawar beamed happily. Standing upright on the donkey cart, he saluted the grazing cows, the roadside beggar, the green fields, the grand old trees and even the bleating goats that he saw on the way.

Zawar and his grandfather supplied milk to the army base near their village. Everyday, before dawn, the little boy would help his grandfather milk the cows and cart it to the base canteen. Captain Khalid had befriended the young lad and gifted his old, worn out cap to him. When they reached home, Zawar rushed to show his cap to his mother who was churning butter.

The following evening, a stranger called Durab came to the village. He told the villagers that he wanted to buy some land. He toured the whole area and met everyone. He was terribly interested in Zawar when the old munshi told him that they supplied milk to the army base. He was very friendly but Zawar did not like him. He felt that there was a cunning look in his eyes. Mr Durab asked a lot of questions about the soldiers but the young boy grew silent and unresponsive.

Mr Durab was staying in the little village inn. The next day he again came to Zawar's house.

“Well, boy,” he said. “Would you like to earn some money?”

Zawar did not reply. They were poor but he did not trust Mr Durab.

Mr Durab gave him a gaily wrapped box. “Do me a little favour, boy. Tomorrow morning when you go to supply milk, give this mithai (sweets) to the guards. Our soldiers are so brave. I want to show my love and respect for them.”

Zawar took the box. It was very heavy.

Mr Durab handed him a shiny watch. “This is for you for being such a good boy. If you do me this favour, I'll bring a nice, fat envelope full of money for you.”

Zawar again had an uneasy feeling but the watch felt nice on his slim, brown wrist.

“Don't tell anyone. Ok?” He patted Zawar on the head and went away. On an impulse Zawar decided to follow him. Mr Durab slowly went up the narrow, dusty road. It seemed as if he was not going anywhere in particular. However, when he reached a little forest at the end of the village, he gave a little whistle. To Zawar's immense surprise, the old beggar came out. They talked in low voice and Zawar held his breath.

“What can they be talking about?” he thought.

The two men looked around and went into the forest. Zawar followed and saw them enter an old, abandoned hunting lodge. He went around cautiously and heard more voices. He peeped in through the grilled window and saw Mr Durab and the old beggar with another person. They were eating and talking in a language he did not understand. He snooped some more and in another room he saw something that made his blood run cold. On the floor, there were some weapons and uniforms.

Suddenly Zawar knew that they were enemy spies. He looked around desperately. He could not tackle three men and he was too far away from his village to call anyone for help. There was only one thing to do. As quick as lightning, he darted forward. The three men looked up in alarm. Before they could move, Zawar slammed shut the heavy iron door and bolted it. With trembling fingers, he took the heavy lock from the gate and locked it too. The men were shouting, kicking and hurling threats but Zawar quickly sped towards the army base. He was afraid that those angry men would escape and come after him.

At the base, he poured out his story to Captain Khalid. Hardly believing his ears, he called his superiors and then everything happened very quickly. They raided the hunting lodge where the three furious and frustrated men were still locked up and arrested them.

Zawar threw the watch at Mr Durab. “We lay down our lives for Pakistan, Mr Durab. No amount of money can make us betray our country.” The prisoners glared at the young boy who had ruined their evil plans to create chaos.

Later, Zawar was given a medal for his bravery in a special ceremony. But the best reward for the little fauji jawan (young soldier) was the scholarship to study in the best cadet academy and a chance to serve his country.

The Colour of Courage

"Have you seen the new girl? Isn't she weird-looking?" Maria snickered.

"She is from some African country. No wonder she looks like this," Laila said scornfully.

Maria and Laila were best friends. They were always together in school but they had one big problem. They loved to make fun of other girls. They invented cruel nicknames for their class-mates and did not care if someone's feelings got hurt. Other girls in the class were wary of their sharp tongue and steered clear of the two friends but Laila and Maria did not care. They had too much fun together mocking their classmates. They were both very pretty girls but this had made them vain. 

"Hey Fatty," Laila called out to Hira, who unfortunately was a bit plump. "Who is that Ugly?"

Hira glared at Laila but answered softly. "Her name is Mbabwe. She is here as an exchange student. Don't be rude to her, Laila. She is a guest in our country."

"Bah, guest indeed," Maria said contemptuously. 

The two friends bent their heads together and Laila whispered something. They both went into peals of laughter. Hira shook her head in exasperation and went off.

Mbabwe soon settled down in her new environment. She was extremely polite and intelligent. She had a strange sing-song voice and moved with a quiet grace. All the students in the class were very friendly towards her and did their best to make her feel welcome. All, except, Laila and Maria. 

"Look at them," Maria said during recess, when she saw some students around Mbabwe talking and laughing. "I don't know why everybody is so fascinated by her. She is so dark."

"I know," Laila agreed quickly. "Look at her hair. It looks as if spaghetti is sprouting out of her head."

"And she moves as if she has a pitcher on her head," said Maria, exaggerating Mbabwe's graceful gait. 

"Ugh! And her nose. I would hate to look at myself in the mirror everyday if I looked like her," laughed Laila, not bothering to keep her voice down.

Unfortunately, Mbabwe heard them. She looked around and her expression was sad and hurt as she realized that they were making fun of her. Tears welled up in her eyes. All the other girls were silent and they looked at Maria and Laila reproachfully.

"Come on, Mbabwe. You don't have to listen to their nonsense," said Farah, taking her hand. 

"Oh, Miss Acne-face has made a new friend," Laila taunted Farah. 

Just then, the bell rang and everybody went inside. Nobody talked to Laila and Maria for the rest of the day but they did not care.

Next Sunday, Laila's family went for a sea-side picnic. Laila's father unloaded the car while Ali, her four year old brother chattered incessantly. He was very excited and clutched his red ball tightly in his chubby hands.

Laila and her mother looked for a good spot to sit. To her dismay, she saw Mbabwe sitting under a big umbrella with her host family. They were all laughing and having a good time. Mbabwe then looked up and waved to her.

"Oh, no!" groaned Laila, under her breath. "What is she doing here? Now I'll have to introduce her to my family."

Mbabwe stood up and approached Laila's family with a good natured smile. Her host parents also came over to meet them. However, Laila's response was cold and brief. Laila's father noticed his daughter lack of geniality with a frown. He stepped in the awkward silence and while the parents exchanged pleasant introductions, Mbabwe stood silent, her eyes downcast.

Laila suddenly saw her little brother on the pebbly beach running towards the blue sea. He was running as fast as his chubby legs could carry him as his bouncing ball kept on rolling. Laila stood frozen with horror for a second and then screamed.

"Ali! Stop! Father, stop him!" For an agonizing second, everyone remained rooted at the spot while oblivious to any danger, Ali chased his prized possession. There was a resounding splash as he slipped and disappeared under water. Laila's mother screamed with horror and fainted. 

Everyone ran towards the water where Ali was floundering under the weight of his wet clothes. A big wave carried him further off the coast. Hearing the shouts and screams, people on the beach also started gathering but few knew how to swim. Some jumped in the water but where was the little boy?

Laila saw the red ball bobbing up and down in the sea. Holding her unconscious mother in her arms, she felt numb. Her throat felt raw as if a thousand screams were trapped inside her. She then saw somebody swimming in the water in quick graceful strokes. The swimmer went under water and then came up for air. She saw the person then submerge again and change directions. 

As Laila stood with her eyes glued to the sea, the swimmer surfaced with a small body. Laila's heart went still. It was Mbabwe. She started coming in shore with the limp body in her arms. Other people gathered around them blocking her view. Laila could bear no more. She left her mother with some sympathetic ladies and raced towards the crowd. 

As she approached the excited people, her feet slowed. What will she see? With her heart hammering, she went forward. She saw her father tightly hugging__a wet, squealing, splattering, thoroughly disheveled, but still chattering incessantly__her brother. With tears of relief and joy pouring down her eyes, Laila went up to them and hugged them both. 

She then looked around and saw Mbabwe. Somebody had placed a warm shawl around her shoulders. People were offering her hot tea, congratulating her on her remarkable courage and strength. She looked embarrassed and awkward with all the attention and praise.

Laila went to her. The two class mates looked at each other. Laila could muster up no words to express her gratitude, to apologize to her for her past behavior, to show her over whelming shame and regret. But none were needed. Maybe it all showed in her eyes. Mbabwe held out her hand and Laila enveloped her in a tight embrace.

Next day, the entire class was amazed at Laila's changed demeanor. Laila stood in front of the class and apologized to each class mate for her scathing words and nicknames. She recounted the previous day's event and thanked Mbabwe profusely for saving her brother's life. Laila had found the courage to see the errors of her ways and correct her mistakes.

She had learned that physical beauty is only skin deep. It is the inner self and the true color of  courage that matters.