(Descriptive Details is a post series on my blog in which I write little tid bits of short stories. In some ways it helps me practice my descriptive writing but in other ways it’s really just plain fun😉)
So I found a lil story draft intro that I wrote a little while ago. Here it is….
It was a dry and cold morning. The kind that nipped the air and made your nose red and frozen, but warm enough that the rest of your body could stay warm. Salamah sat in bed wrapped in a dozen blankets, attempting to conserve any body heat she could retain. “This is ridiculous” she thought to herself. “Just get up and go find a heater ya doofus. It’s not like you’re some homeless guy on the street in the middle of a polar vortex!” She turned over on her back so she could look at her vaulted ceiling. “I wonder how one would go about painting something like that” she thought. “Also, does the attic just have a weird pointy line running across the floor where this ceiling is?” she thought to herself again.
Salamah thought to herself a lot. She wondered about the world around her with a level of curiosity very few could adequately match. She asked questions about anything and everything, which unfortunately came to the annoyance of others eventually, so she learned not to ask too many questions aloud.
*Knock knock* Good morning my darling! How did you sleep? In walked her happy, smiley, sunshiney, mother Asra. Salamah smiled. There was a time during her angsty teenage years where that cheery and blithe personality would have set off a series of eye rolls and mumbles under her breath, as she would drag her feet to the bathroom. But today was not teenage angsty Salamah anymore. In fact, that was almost 7 years ago. Salamah was now 23 years old and what a world of a difference 23 was from 17.
“Good morning Omma!” (word for mother in Korean). I slept well alhamdulillah!” Salamah said with a smile. There was someting remarkable about her mother’s smile and morning comments that always brightened her day.
“Well I was thinking of making some omelets this morning, did you want some?” her mother remarked.
Salamah’s eyes opened wide, shining, as if someone had drawn 2 cartoon stars inside them. She really loved omelets , and especially her mother’s. As a “hybrid-latchkey” sort of kid, she valued any moment she could taste her mother’s own cooking as opposed to frozen meals or ramen noodles. Her mother chuckled seeing her daughter’s face and said “Well I guess I will take that as a yes!” Meet you downstairs?” And with that she walked out of the room, leaving Salamah back with her thoughts again, in the relentless, unforgiving, frigid room she called her own.
It doesn’t all have to be figured out… In fact, it will NEVER be all figured out. Until the end of time and the day you die you will never have it all figured out. You will NEVER be perfect. You will never get to a point where you reach complete contentment and it just lasts forever. WHy did it take me so long to realize this? Or have I been re-realizing this over and over but still going back to my perfectionist state? And what if I did? Maybe that’s fine because we’ll NEVER have it figured OUT!!
I was feeling bla today. My relationship with my father is currently on a dwindling tight rope and finding out he was coming back tomorrow kinda ruined my excitement of having the next two days off. I came into my room and proceeded to play some more “New Girl” episodes even though I’ve watched it so many times. I just sat there and was like what am I doing? I’m wasting my time, I gotta do something. But the depression kicked in and I simultaneously had no urge to do anything. Not to paint, or to listen to my fiction book, or my other book. Not to write for this blog or work on my applications or write my scholarships. I just didn’t want to create anything. I signed into this blog here and instead decided to go to the Reader’s page, and “lo and behold” I stumble upon this perfectly placed post that I’ve linked down at the bottom⬇️⬇️.
I honestly was more intrigued by the blog title (Pointless Overthinking) than anything else. Mainly because all I’ve been realizing lately is that I think a LOT. I have so many thoughts that run through my brain on a daily basis that I don’t know if that places me on the “smart” spectrum or soo far past the “intelligible” realm that I’m just entering into crazy town. Or possibly ADHD (I dont know okay! I’m a psych major I self diagnose myself daily!).
ANYWAY, I stumbled upon this post and it was exactly what I needed. Someone telling me to stop trying to be perfect. Just be grateful for what you are right now. Reflect and appreciate what you’ve achieved in the past year. Be content with the fact that you are not the same person you were a year ago, heck or even a month ago. And sure, things are confusing, and relationships are strained and you can’t fix all of them overnight but you know what? Who cares?
So in the spirit of turning “pointless overthinking” into “purposeful” thinking, why don’t I just take this time to list all the things I’ve done this year, what I am grateful for, and honestly, how lucky I am to have survived a pandemic while working in an ER! Subhanallah that is all from God man. Alhamdulillah.
1- I got a job. I am a medical scribe in an ER and I was proactive enough to not LOSE my job, before it even started, by asking to be transferred in order to complete my training.
2- I dealt with a coworker/trainer that did not like me at all but I got past it. I persevered and I made it to the other side.
3- I got SUPER (with Allah’s help and A LOT of effort on my own part) super good at my job! I can condense PMHx (past medical histories) like there’s no tomorrow and I’ve figured out the jargon to be able to condense HPI’s in general.
4- I’ve worked with and feel comfortable with a lot more providers than I used to be.
5- I’ve been doing a decent job of lowering my gaze while at this job. It aint easy yall. It is NOT easy!!
6- I’ve started calling my grandparents a lot more. This is honestly something I am very proud and happy of. I realized how neglectful we had been to them over the past few years and while sure, yes, I can do better, I have also DONE better over the last few months.
7- I’m getting my butt back on the saddle. Instead of choosing to let fear of my mental illness, and the mental illness itself, rule my life, I am learning to do the opposite. To accept my mental illness, deal with it, and move on so I can become a competent provider in this world and not just a dependent.
8- Very recently, I became fully acquainted with the fact that I. AM. WEIRD! I am so weird. I may not be a full on nerd that is a homebody, who likes to be alone all the time, but I am definitely a socially awkward turtle and it takes time for me to get comfortable with people. I’m weird. I will be till the end of time and my brother, my mother, my father, my ENTIRE family may not get it, but that does not mean I gotta change or be someone else. Just be weird. We’re all a little weird in our own ways and I’m a tad bit farther on the spectrum and that is fine. I am going to find a guy one day (inshallah) that is just as weird. Who gets my humour and laughs at the same stuff. That I am inspired by and I deeply respect. But I will also be so weird with! And our families will look at us like we are two weirdos and we just won’t care because we’ll be in love. Point is I’m weird. And someone will appreciate that some day but as of now, I appreciate that. I accept it, I love it, and I wouldn’t wanna be anyone else.
9- I mustered the courage to send LOR requests! And so many professors agreed to write me one. (which reminds me I gotta respond to my email).
10- Did I mention I am taking care of my health? I had a lot of appointments this year but only because I am really trying. Really trying to make this right. And get better. Be better.
11- I read books!! SO many books! Ady Barkan, Chris Winter, Brandon Sanderson, the one about anatomy and physiology, Uswah Alade’s book!
12- I STARTED MY FIRST SEMESTER OF ASSOCIATES DEGREE IN ISLAMIC STUDIES AND SCHOLARSHIP!!! I mean how amazing is that?! I had a goal, and I began to pursue it. I’d also like to mention that I am super happy about this because I feel like so many times when I tell people about myself, I mention things that I “like” but barely ever do. “I love to swim, I love learning about Islam, I love helping others, I love teaching, I love hiking, I love the outdoors.” I do “like” all of those things, but how often do I actually “do” them? So this was a step in the right direction. I also signed up for the next semester.
13- I got back to a therapist and this time I’ve hit some major breakthroughs. Issues with my father and how I deal with relationships, how i view romantic relationships, my newfound voice after being on medication for 8+ months… Etc etc.
14- self… acceptance… of taking… medication. Look, this is who I am. I’m Sakeenah and I need medication to get me through the day. You can tell me I am crazy all you want but at the end of the day I’m fighting for my future. A future where I am competent enough to be someone that others can depend on… and depend on CONSISTENTLY. I’m pushing past my fears and working towards pursuits I never thought was in my reach before taking the medication. I am achieving, and happy with myself, and that is all that really matters.
15- I am starting to pray again. I’ve been going through a really weird rut with my whole salah thing. At one point I felt like I was losing it altogether, and then sometimes, it would come in waves. I’m still working towards this but another realization I found this year was that I am an adult now. I am not the naive, innocent middle school girl I once knew where praying salah was sooo soooo important and my brain was not corrupted lol. My heart is not as pure as it was when I was a child, and honestly I pray to You Oh Allah (swt) that you do purify my heart and you make it clean again, and shield me from that which is displeasing to you Ameen! But until then, I am an adult. I know things I didn’t before. I am desensitized to things I was not before. I am not in an environment surrounded by Muslims anymore. The majority of people that I interact with on the daily don’t consider themselves “religious” at all. Some don’t believe in a God at all. They gossip and think it’s ok. They lie and think it’s ok. They dress in a way that impurifies the eyes ever… So… Slowly. Living in a world like that will definitely desensitize you over time.
So this is not going to be easy. Its going to be hard, and the closer to Allah (swt) I get, the more challenges, pains and struggles I will face. This is what all those years of training were for. To go out into the world and continue to still fight to be me.
16- I view friendships differently. They require a lot of work but it is the right thing to do. But family, neighbors, elders, they are all just as important.
17- I can type at like crazy WPM speeds now. And omg I can retain a lot more sentences in my short term/working memory than I used to be able to (subhanallah, alhamdulillah, Allahumabarik).
18- I memorized some surahs including Surah Mulk, Surat Al-E-Imran the last ten ayat, Surah Kahf- the first and last ten ayat, Surah Rahman (more than half). Alhamdulillah.
19- I very slowly, and very gingerly, have become increasingly more comfortable with the idea of marriage and growing up, compared to how I once used to think of it.
20- I was so close to almost running a 5K last year. And this year, im going to try again.
21- And finally, life. aint. perfect. So I got kidney stones at 23! Alhamdulillah at least they’re gone! So I sucked at my job initially, and my supervisor/trainer did NOT like me, but at least I got the job! My dad hates me and is not talking to me right now, well at least I got a dad! At least he comes home sometimes and pays some bills and I know who he is and have good memories of him. Life just isn’t perfect. You win some days, you lose some days but that’s the cool thing about life is that it still goes on permitting you another day to go out and rebrand yourself and size the day and change what maybe you couldn’t yesterday. So all that really matters is that you just get out of bed. 🙂
Below is the post that inspired this post!
REPOST: The Only New Year’s Resolution You’ll Ever Need — by Pointless Overthinking
“Trying is the first step to failure.” – HOMER SIMPSON I don’t care much for New Year’s Resolutions. The idea of sitting down to make a list of things I must or must not do. Frankly it makes me want to jam a pen in my eye. (Which would, incidentally, be less painful than watching […]
Especially if you’re a student. The original title was: “Dua for exams”
Original photo in the middle was made by @ muslim.daily (via Instagram) so OG credits belong to them! And yes the original title of the photo was “Dua for exams.”
It’s really amazing how life-like and markedly more exciting it is to read Arabic now that I am learning the language. As I read this dua for the first time, I was able to pick out certain words and recognize their conjugations. And it just made it that much more meaningful and fun to read.
I don’t think people realize how MUCH I enjoy learning. Every time I’m able to apply something like this I feel like I am seeing the world with a new lens. Or like the character in the Giver who finally sees color. Its like the subject comes to life in a totally new way! Okay dramatically excited rant over🙈
The other day my Nanaba told me this beautiful story about the value and beauty of a good neighbor. Once upon a time there was a landlord who owned a house. And it was time he had decided he wanted to sell the house. So he put it up, selected a price, and waited for people to come. Eventually, a young family came to see the house. They looked around, and were satisfied with the contents of the house but not nearly impressed for the price the landlord was listing. So the husband of the new family asked the landlord, “With all due respect sir, you have a beautiful house, but I do not feel as though it is necessarily worth as much as you have listed the price for. Do you not think this is a rather heavy price for this level of a home?”
The landlord looked at the man and smiled. His lips pursed but in a manner that meant he was holding back a chuckle of amusement and not one of anger. He looked at the man and said, “indeed you are right, this house alone by itself is not really worth the amount I have listed, but it is not just the structure of the house I am selling as much as it is the place.”
The young man’s eyebrows burrowed in confusion, I am not sure I understand what you mean sir.
The landlord walked the young man and his family out of the house and onto the front porch. Then he turned at gestured his hand to the right as if about to present something. His hand gestured towards another man mowing the lawn next door. The landlord turned back to the young couple and said, it is because of this man that I have set the price to such a high value. Whomever moves into this house can ensure that they will be treated with the utmost care and compassion by this neighbor right here.
He treats me so well that I almost don’t want to sell the house.
The young couple looked at the man, and then at his neighbor, they thanked the landlord and went on their way.
A few days later, it came to the notice of the neighbor, that his friend/landlord was selling his house at such a high price all because of him. So he went to the landlord to visit him. He rang his doorbell as he usually did around Asr time to check in on the landlord and his family.
The landlord welcomed him inside and they sat down. His neighbor looked at him with a puzzled looked etched on his face. He turned to him and asked him, oh dear friend of mine, why is it that you are even selling your house in the first place. The man turned to him and said, to be honest, it is because I am going through financial problems and I cannot afford to pay for this house, and so I have decided to sell it. If not for this reason, I would not have ever given up this house that is next to yours for all the money in the world.
The neighbor smiled. He took the landlords hand in his, looked him straight in the eye and said with the utmost humility and concern in his face, my dear friend, let me cover your financial problems at this time so that I can continue to see you every day. The two men smiled at each other as the landlord agreed.
I totally dramatized and added details to my Nana’s shorter version of the story but the basic through-line remains true, the importance of neighbors. Would you ever sell your house for such a large amount simply because of your neighbor? Are you that neighbor that someone else would do that because of you? I love this story because it is a very plain, simple, and direct lesson learned, to treat your neighbors with the utmost care, dignity, respect, humility, etc. Serve as though they are your own family. Be consistent with checking in on them, and at a consistent time to (so as not to embarrass, or catch them at a bad time). Don’t hesitate to give whatever you have. And honestly, don’t stop until you feel you have fulfilled a neighbors wants so much that he feels like this towards you. Like he feels the same way the landlord felt to his neighbor.
I wonder what the heart does when it’s kept something in for too long. And what exactly is too long? Does anything even happen really? You know, they use the analogy of still water festering. Have you heard that before? That if you keep something (like say hatred) in your heart for too long, that it then sits and festers until it becomes a sickness. And that sickness manifests itself in the form of self harm whether that be through depression, self-hatred or self deprecation, a constant feeling of self guilt. They say that things like this happen if you don’t communicate the hard stuff that you just need to let out.
….
Communication. Maybe that’s it. Maybe its that you’re too afraid to communicate because you know its going to be hard, and that you might face conflict. I think all those self harm stuff is just a result of your fear. You hate yourself for being too afraid, for not being courageous enough, for not overcoming your failures or your problems. Keeping it all in, in a very very generalized sense, its kinda just a pansy move. You refuse to let people share pain with you and insist on taking it all yourself, because you’re too afraid of what might happen if you speak up. I think that is what happens to me I guess. Its amazing how extremely vocal I can be when I am alone pacing in my room talking to myself (lol), or when I am typing on this blog. But in the outside world I’m like a list of different people. Because some people can’t take the deep stuff, and I come off weird if I don’t so I have to just do the superficial stuff. And other people I am just naturally an awkward turtle no matter what I do or say or try because those people just intimidate me and I am much more of an introvert than most people think. I think I’m more of an introvert than even I think I am.
But anyway, yeah. The thing that sucks about keeping in your fears is that you never get to overcome them, or get to other side. You almost self-oppress yourself into this little bubble where you constantly fear any situation even remotely similar to the one you had before (in which you still have not overcome either). Box yourself in, imprisoned in fear, call it whatever you’d like.
I get it from my dad.
….
The bottling stuff up thing. The fear of speaking out about it and choosing to hold it in until you just hate and hate and hate. I don’t think my dad hates himself though. But he has a lot of energy to hate others, and judge others. But I cannot even blame or act all high and mighty because I do the same thing and I’m probably worse. But he does do that nonetheless. When he is angry at someone he won’t talk to them forever and ever, until one day he decides to make a joke and we have to pretend were all good again. Even though 3 days later he may re-remember the thing he didn’t like and go back to being weird and aloof.
My dad’s dad yelled/yells a lot. When he gets angry his shout is so loud and aggressive that its almost scary. My mom said something about that once that implied that that is why my dad doesn’t speak up. When he is mad he doesn’t yell or hit or get aggressive, he just…. leaves. And you don’t know where or why. If he doesn’t leave physically he checks out mentally. He doesn’t tell you what is wrong and won’t speak unless its to tell you that you wasted food or didn’t turn off a light (both valid reasons to criticize though I guess, I’m really trying to get better at this gratefullness stuff). But its true he does.
I still wonder it. Why my dad left back then. Why he left and didn’t come back for three months. That’s my cage of imprisonment, being too afraid to ask him this. To ask him why he left and where he went. What happened when he came home and didn’t find anyone? Was he sad? was he mad? alone? Did he even care at all?
And then, why did he decide to come back? was it because he couldn’t tell his parents “oh i left my wife and were probably getting a divorce”, or was it for his kids? or was it for my mom? Is that why he left, because of his kids? Does he ever regret having us?
That is pretty much the full reel of questions but its been running through my mind a lot lately. My dad also doesn’t talk to me now not just cuz I yelled that one time, but because I didn’t choose medicine but psychology. There were a few days where he seemed supportive but most days I think he wakes up, remembers that I’m not doing medicine, makes himself angry and/or cranky, and proceeds to act aloof around me. Its frustrating. i feel like I don’t know anything about my dad. Like I know more about some strangers I meet in the ER than I know about my own father. Its difficult and confusing. But I guess that is what its like with Indian immigrant parents/the indian culture? That you’re not supposed to let your child into much of your life? maybe because if you do it is a sign that your child doesn’t trust you or something.
But even if that were true its not like I am a kid anymore that cannot understand things. I am a fully grown adult. And if we didn’t live in a time where college classes were financially crippling, and you could get a career/job without a college degree and still live well, then I’d already be out of the house right now taking care of my own (house that is). So what is it? I think its the idea that a child never really grows up in India. Till the day they die parents are the end all be all. and i mean in many respects, I really respect that. We live in such a world of jahiliyyah and disrespect to parents (myself included), that having a culture that values parents is definitely important. But even in Islam there is an understanding that at some point in a child’s life the leash has to be loosened. and eventually its let go. That doesn’t mean the child is gone forever, you hope that if you taught them well and loved them well that they will want nothing but to serve you. But to continue to force them in a manner of owner and servant, parent and child, authority and not, well that is a different thing.
In either case, I think I have blabbered on enough. Just things I wish I could truly get off my chest and have the courage to ask my dad you know? In all fairness I think if it wasn’t so hard to just speak with my dad (without him getting distracted every two mins), it would be easier to do.
“Because of the sacrifices of many many before you, you are where you are today.”
When I went to Nicaragua in the 10th grade, I lived in a village with no electricity and no running water. It was 2013… 2013!!!! And there were still people who farmed for food, used candles for light and rivers to drink water from.
Every morning we would get up at the break of dawn, walk a short distance to a well, where we pumped up water for a good long while. It was tiring and hurt our hands so we would take turns between the 20 of us. We would then have to pump all that water again, through a water filter to purify it so our pansy, North American, internal organs could take it, lol. After that, because we hadn’t done enough for our fragile spoiled bodies (ok sorry ill turn down the self hate and sass a tad bit), we had to pour mild chlorine packets into our water to kill any other viruses and bacteria that may be lurking about our water bottles. We did this because we were so used to drinking distilled/ chemically purified, water that even a small amount of the bacteria in the river water could kill us as we just weren’t used to this water quite frankly. (We have a similar situation in India at my Daadi’s house where we have to boil all our water before we, the Americans, can drink it). ANYWAY, after all the work of pumping, and filtering and chlorine bleaching all our bottles, and about an hour and a half later, we would finally have our 2 bottles of water which we used for every water related need for the rest of the day- to drink, to make wudu, to clean our hands, etc. That was it. Except for shower water which was still not a lot.
I remember I learned a lot from that trip but it wasn’t until now, 7 years later that I fully see the gravity of that lesson. That if my parents, and my grandparents had never moved to America; If my Nani continued to be an orphan and never got an education, if my Daadajaan stayed in the village and never left to become an engineer, I wouldn’t be where I am today. The hand dealt fortune upon myself and my family from Allah. I could very well be a child in India walking 2 miles for water from a dirty brown river, with no time for education. I could be a child subject to child labor. But because of the efforts and the sacrifices of the family members before me, and the kindness that other people around them showed them, I ended up here, in a x thousand square foot house, with my own room, with a vaulted ceiling, and a 1,000 dollar MAC laptop, a degree in Psychology with no debt,… and the list of fortunes, and gifts to be grateful for goes on and on and on.
So I hope one day to teach my children, a little bit earlier on in life this important lesson- that you are where you are because of the sacrifices of many before you.
I would take my child out to a river or lake one day with a water chlorine bottle and a water purifier. I would tell them to go fill the bucket with water, and then to purify it. And then to chlorinate it. And together we’d drink. And id tell them to do it again, and again, until you get tired. When we get to the end and he/she (really hates the taste), I’ll give them a drink of our normal water.
Then ill teach the lesson. Why do you think I asked you to do this?
Possible answers include: because you wanted me to value water, because you hate me lol, because its tiring.
No, [insert name here], have you ever realized that you have never seen where your water comes from? It comes from somewhere like this yknow? But because we live in the suburbs, in our nice houses, and we’re well off, we never see where our water comes from. [insert name here], yknow this could have not been your life. If your nana had never come here to America, if he had never sacrificed missing his family, and his language, and his culture to come here to give a better life to his children, you would not be here. You could’ve been born in India to a family of less wealth. You could’ve been a kid who has to do what you just did every day 15 times a day. You could’ve been that kid.
But you’re not, why?
Because of the sacrifices your parents, and ancestors, and family, and friends, have made before you. See your life doesn’t just start when you are born, it starts long before that. And we have to remember to be grateful to the people who have made sacrifices for us, so that you can continue to enjoy what you enjoy today. Your own mother and father have made sacrifices for you, some of which you will never know, just so you can be here today. And I never want you to forget that. So the next time an elder, your dad or your mom or someone else makes a mistake, or annoys you, just remind yourself of the sacrifices they made so you can be here today.
If they didn’t feed you you wouldn’t be alive, if they didn’t get your shots you could’ve been sick, if they didn’t buy you clothes you could’ve been embarrassed. So always, always respect your elders, okay? and respect people, because when you love what Allah has made you can never go wrong.
Lesson learned? okay lets go home.
(Separate side lesson to add? That the whole point of this life is to humble ourselves and see ourselves as nothing, as the lowest, as slaves in front of God. To hear and obey him and trust that He knows what is best without knowing everything ourselves. So respecting and obeying your parents and elder siblings, and elders is kinda like a practice test. Can you handle being patient and obeying without understanding? Or do you have to say “oh no i know better than that old whatever… and rebel and disobey?”
So…. I went to Chicago. And una persona was there. And I did it again. And…. And….
I took some pictures. Some pretty good ones I think.
A tree wrapped in lights right outside our hotel.
I waited for the coast to be clear, got on the ground, and then I took this shot in the exact middle of the road😅 I really love how it captures the never ending lining of lamp posts down the left side. This was taken around 7 am post fair. I love post fajr time when I’m traveling. It’s like a really special moment in the day where potential and possibilities are endless. 😊
This was a shot of one of the booth vendors’ products and they just happen to be my aunt and uncle ;)! I remember when I first got there I got all excited to show off my amateur photography skills looool
Does anyone else think it’s weird that this photo is crooked? I thought it was cool in a “creative liberty” sort of way but maybe that’s just me.
The Warrior Within 