Stories & Articles

A Day in the life of a NYer hijabi

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A Day in the life of a NYer hijabi

I casually walk across the Brooklyn Bridge every now and then; I stand side by side my fellow MTA brethren on the long haul home during rush hour as we attempt to tune out subway entertainers who obnoxiously strum the notes of an off-key guitar directly into our ears, and surprise us with an accordion player who tips his hat out expecting to be thanked for those two minutes of pure torture. I have proudly passed in front of the Empire State Building after emerging from the 6 train and gazed upon Lady Liberty during my free ride on the Staten Island Ferry. I’m a NYer enough not to have actually paid to see any of our city’s landmark wonders.

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To Shaytan

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To Shaytan

And tomorrow, I will feel empowered, and grateful. Because I see my strength in standing up against you.

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What’s Moving You?

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What’s Moving You?

In our times, it’s ingrained in our society to follow this celebrity, do what your friends are doing, eat this, wear that, and so on. We have to stop and analyze ourselves. Do you pray on time or watch the latest episode of the newest TV show? Do you wear hijab now or dress up for non-mahrams, saying this command can wait? Do you use vulgar language because all the cool kids do it? Who is guiding you to the decisions you make?

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Are You Standing Tall?

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Are You Standing Tall?

I cried to the Rabb when everyone was asleep; in the balcony, staring at the sky, the moon, the stars, assuring myself that my Rabb was there and listening to my call, I asked Him to make me a steadfast Muslimah, one who was a hijabi not just from her appearance but also from her heart, her words and her deeds – a hijabi in her private sphere as well as in the company of people.

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Life Rekindled

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Life Rekindled

But alhamdulillah, Allah kept His Eye on me, so that I was saved and shown the light of truth by His blessings in the disguise of my husband. Everything around me turned upside down when I saw my in-laws doing their prayers however tired and sick they were. My husband was regular in his prayers and my inner conscious started to prick me… I began to question by own self, and I felt ashamed to say that I was a Muslim as I was not doing my obligatory prayers on time. I slowly realized the peace I felt when I did my prayers on time, and started fasting the whole month of Ramadan. Even if I missed, I managed to make up the days by fasting equal days from other months. I fell into a peaceful track, which had once been so hard for me.

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