My love, know that your hijab is your armor, cherish it. Know that Allah never lets the efforts of His slaves go to waste, so be steadfast so that His everlasting mercy shall be yours, inshaAllah. Have the full conviction that you are beautiful; never doubt that, for you are a creation of Allah subhana wa ta’la.

There is a thick layer of grime that encrusts the walls of my heart. I know this isn’t a great way to start an article, but for this piece I couldn’t come up with anything that was more apt. To be sure I’m a hijabi and I mostly offer salah with punctuality, but my inner self is an unfortunate combination of doubts, sins, ego, self-love and love of dunya.

I’m not a niqaabi. Thus, this article was not born out of self defense and will have no hint of it, inshaAllah. It is also worth mentioning that this is solely intended for the Muslims (both brothers and sisters), especially those who have welcomed the hijab.

It’s a physical ache, the kind that stops you dead in your tracks. A slow burn in the chest and a mind cluttered with worry. I feel every beat melt into the next and my heart’s inaudible whispers grow louder. Patience. I’ve been told that this world, this fleeting dunya, is not for the faint of heart. I dig deep and the whispers ripple through my chest. Patience. My heartstrings are in a disjunctive mess and I need a remedy.

Walking into the prayer room of the library’s basement yesterday, I heard an unmistakably soft and beautiful recitation of the Qur’an. Every letter was pronounced clearly, and every verse flowed onto the next. And then I saw you, the owner of the voice, wearing a navy blue jilbab and a light blue scarf, sitting with a noticeably large Qur’an resting upon your lap. Your fingertips swept across its pages, line by line, verse by verse.