Bhool gaee hein jo hamain, yaad atay tu hein….

Yaadein… yaad ati hein…

Maloom hota hai bhool gaee hoo shayad..

Ya pher kamal ka sabr rakhtay ho


Nafs p kahan qaboo hai,

Dil baichain gunahgar hai

Uchlta hai, betaab hai

Na samjh hai, baigana hai

Aik chamat lagao sahi hojaeega

Demag kharab hai. Awara hai. 🤣🤣🤣

I am too high right now !!



From my college/school days I have been listening to the words “Be mature” “you are not mature” etc. and at that time too these words used to put me off. Why? Because I was not old but I had responsibilities at that time too. I was kid but I had sense of responsibility. 

Now today when I am actually old and when I see people around, I ask myself is this what maturity is? Is diplomacy maturity? Is being two faced is maturity? Is saying lie; maturity? Is showing off; maturity? If this is maturity, then I don’t want to be mature. 

I don’t want to have an “art of taking everyone along” . I am good to be known as “You are kid, you don’t know anything” 

Sharp downfall

When you make a graph, sometimes its a slope and Somtimes its a sharp downfall. Like straight line coming down. 

Yeh! My mood these days are exactly like this. Day by day it is falling down. Not slowly. But very fast. Not slant but very steep.

May Allah Taala help me. Ameen. These nights are precious nights and you are precious Abd of Allah Taala. Prayers needed please.

おねがいします (Onegaishimasu)

Deep From Heart

This is something I should read again and again and again

A little story to inspire you this Friday…
She started the month of Ramadhan with all the strength and determination of an eagle. Her eyes held a steely glint as they focused on the ultimate prize. It was close. So close she could see it, feel it, taste it: the sweetness of success. Milestones reached. Goals achieved. Satisfaction. All by the Grace of Allah SWT.
Until she came crashing down to earth, so soon. Too soon. Her wings were broken, her heart sore and, when she looked up to where she had once flown so freely, so arrogantly, she found she could hardly make out the clouds she had once longed to walk on, the stars she had longed to dance with.
And she cried bitter tears.
To gather her broken wings together, to mend them, feather by matted feather, was too much for her battered soul. Better to lie there and close her eyes, shut out the starlight which served as a reminder of where she had once longed to be.
To remain earthbound, to cleave to the earth, to forget that she was ever made to fly, that would be easier.
To disintegrate, to melt, to sink into the soil and disappear, now, that would be easier still.
She lay there for an age, contemplating a world without her, cleansed of her presence, and she, freed from the cares of this world. To return to her Lord, to end it, this was the relief she sought as the tears fell and moistened the ground below her.
Then came clarity, like a thousand rising suns. We were not meant to conquer the skies. We were not meant to adorn ourselves with the stars, to capture the moon. We were not meant to feast on endless success, endless happiness. We were meant to rise and fall, to be beaten, to mend our wings and soar once more. To strive, with every breath, with every beat of life, to strive to reach the skies, no matter how far away they may seem.
Because the ease we all long for – the permanent state of bliss – isn’t for this life. It is not for this mortal existence. Pleasure without pain, sunshine without storms, birth without death, celebration without suffering, is not the sunnah of this worldly life. This duality, this impossible dichotomy, is what forms so much of the test of being human: how do we acknowledge the sweet? How do we deal with the bitter? And do we remember The One who decreed it all?
This is question she asks herself as she rises from her ashes, stronger, eyes brighter, ever ready to strive once more.
Until her very last breath.
These past months have been a chaotic melange of good and bad news, of tests and trials, of celebrations and successes. May we all be reminded by these events that are unfolding all around us: reminded of our purpose, reminded of our ultimate meeting with our Lord.
Don’t despair when life knocks you back to earth. Just know that this is how our Lord made it.
And that you were made to rise again.
Rise, O Muslimah, rise.


Sometimes I think of ways; ways of changing others. Ways of showing people how beautiful deen is. Ways of showing people that this Deen also has a taste.. A taste that will make you taste it again and again. 

But in actual my thinking is wrong. Can we change anyone? No! Are we in position to change anyone? No! Then why am I thinking so.

Maybe because I think that on Day of Judgement if Allah Taala will ask me that I gave you this this knowledge and you were supposed to tell it to others then why did you remain quiet? Why didn’t you help those who were seeking knowledge? Why didn’t you help those who were new to Islam? Why were you among those people who were doing wrong? Why didn’t you tell the truth? What will I say to Allah? 

I am wrong. My questions are wrong. My thinking is wrong. I should always remember Allah Taala has his ways and timings. I am nothing. I cannot do anything for anyone. I am a person who is full of sins, those sins which are hidden from people. Who hid? Allah. Who can reveal? Allah. 

So first and foremost correct yourself and fear Allah.