Author Archive

A Woman’s Worth

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A Woman’s Worth

It’s aggravating sometimes. Aggravating to the maximum extent. But in that same moment of aggravation, when you take a step back – you can’t even help but downright pity them. I was in an international airport recently and at the security belt I happened to be with another Muslim family that included three women – a mother and her two daughters. The mother was wearing a jilbab with buttons across the front – a Muslimah traveler common mistake – which puts you at risk for being asked to “kindly remove your ‘coat.'” When you try to convince, explain, and even show that the “coat” is in reality not an external piece of clothing but the “clothing itself” – you seldom win.

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Craving To Be Appreciated

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Craving To Be Appreciated

“The deepest principle in human nature is the craving to be appreciated.” – William James. I find this quote to be ever so true. The Insaan (the human) has truly been created with a strange desire, a “craving” to be appreciated and for his merits to be recognized. Yet how many times do we hear the phrase “I am not appreciated” out of the mouths of stressed mothers? How many times has a lack of appreciation been the reason for the falling apart of marriages? How many frustrated employees have complained about their work and qualifications being underappreciated?

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Airbrushed

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Airbrushed

I read a quote in an article the other day that said something along the lines of: “Humans have become an epidermis with no soul.” How true do you find this statement? The idea of beauty has been awfully distorted by the media – images everywhere of women flawless from every aspect. Sure, lowering the gaze may protect us greatly, but unless Muslims consciously ponder this matter, nobody is immune to the pressure of being “drop-dead-gorgeous.” So I thought it would be a good idea to bring up this discussion from a couple of different aspects.

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Putting Your Best Crease Forward

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Putting Your Best Crease Forward

I know of at least a few sisters who will admit to doing this: with five minutes left to get ready and out the door, your hijab-of-choice for the day is unfortunately not quite ironed to the dot. The iron, a cave-man tool that is lovely to use when you can find the time, stands lonely on the iron board waiting for the day where you wake up with half an hour to spare. You quickly flip, twirl and inverse your Pashmina scarf searching for the edge that is least wrinkled and mechanically place that side atop your forehead. The more wrinkly edges are left to flow around your face, hoping people will fall for the “crinkled-hijab-look” that seems to be so “in” with some of the sisters these days.

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A Young Girl’s Lament

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A Young Girl’s Lament

If you ask me face to face, I may snort and deny it. I will probably brush it off. I will definitely change the subject. But the truth of the matter is, I have kept a diary in the past. Okay, more than one. The girly types with the golden keys and locks and codes and invisible ink… And yes, sometimes I would even write the date. And no, I still have not found the heart to throw them away, so they are tucked away in decorated boxes in my closet. I confess to this girly side of me.

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