Sitting on the prayer mat after Fajr salah, my chirping friends notify me of the arrival of the sun. Just their innocent babble is enriching; uplifting. They peck at the tiny red flowers my mother lovingly planted outside my room.
Continue ReadingHair needs to be either dead straight or entwined in Goldilocks curls. Anything in between is a no-no. Waves signify complacency and let’s not even get started on the frizz.
Continue ReadingI recently was at an Islamic event in an unfamiliar city and was in need of a ride back to where I was staying. By chance, I found a really sweet sister who was willing to drop me off.
Continue ReadingI like to reminisce about the days I used to be bald. Not many people have had the experience, or should I say privilege, of knowing what it feels like to run your fingers through absolutely nothing but a palette of warmth resonating from the top of your head, smooth as a
baby’s bottom.
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