11.3.09

Whenever I hear or read this verse, I remember him. He used to repeat it numerous of times without reading the verses in between. Now I regret not counting the times he said it, maybe they'd have been 31? Like it's mentioned in Surat AlRahman? Maybe he just forgot to remember the remaining verses yet was so persistent to finish reciting the Sura.

He went through a lot and I've only seen him in the true sense of the word in his last years. I was so stupid back then that I'd taken him for granted. But don't we all do that? Take every dearest person in our heart for granted? We'd love to believe that they'll be there no matter what but that's the sad part. There will be a day when we'd see them passing through the crowd in white linen, covering our eyes to think this can't be true, they'd be gone to where we all belong, beneath the ground.

Their memories will haunt us, just like a shadow. Wherever, whenever or whatever you do, there will be a point in which you'll remember what used to be between you, the times you shared... Just know that they're in a better place, a much nicer place than the planet we call Earth. To us, it may seem like they'll miss the great fun they could have here, but what do we know? They might be having a blast in heaven, looking down upon us, wishing we WERE there with them.

May he rest in peace.

11.3.09 to 11.3.2011 = 2 years.. feels like it was just yesterday.

Few Thoughts

(1) A lot of things happened with me at the past week. Two of my family members, both mothers, passed away on the same day. It confused me and I had to get things straight before getting back to cyberspace. I learned not to take anything for granted, especially our own parents.

(2) The true blessing is having the chance to do the Taraweeh prayers daily in Ramadhan at a mosque.

(3) Khawater is becoming interesting by the day. Yesterday's episode hit an all time favourite after introducing a straight-forward point.



Hearing the British lady and the Jewish man standing up for what's right, regrardless of their nationalities or religions spoke loud and clear to me. To all of us. When humanity is being ripped apart, there's no excuse not to stick with the truth.

(4) خطوة | A Step blog is created by 3 intelligent Omanis and 2 Palestinians. Follow them to take a step forward to Palestine's history.

"In 1895, Herzl started his fake dream: "The state of Israel penetrates the Red Sea through the gate of Jordan" A dream to have their own state. And his dream became true by a single book, protocols & global summits. He united the Jews from east to west to build the evil state on the Palestinian lands, tooling away farms, hourse and family members of Palestinian’s Jews, Christians & Muslims. So would we ever start making our own dream?"

(5) Eid is approaching by each passing minute. Even though I'd miss Ramadhan greatly, I'd love to enjoy the happy vibe Eid spreads around amongst people of different ages.

In His Late Memory

March, 11th 09

'Why!' she continues screaming, her voice the only audible one above the others.

His children are done with cleaning him and now, they are taking him to his room, the one he used to sit in, with Oman TV switched on at all times. His body is covered with white linen passes across my eyes as I fight to shut my eyelids so that I won't see him like this. I just don't want to.

Some of them are walking in on him now, praying for him and sobbing. The women next to me watches me carefully as I let out my tears drop down my cheeks, not caring, I let them fall and as they do, I feel my heart sinking down to the floor. This isn't supposed to happen, I say inside my head.

'Let her be....'
'This is too hard for her…'
'Poor girl...'
'She can't....'

They think I can't hear their whispers but I can…and I am hearing them.

'Come with me….'
'This is your last chance….'

Her words echo through my ears and I finally make my decision and stand up. The woman who is a total stranger to me and who was hugging me moments ago so tightly let me go as I am standing up now and making my way to my mother across the crowd of weeping women.

My foot carried me till the final inches of his door. People are everywhere so as the tears and grief that are hanging in the air, wrapping all of us, especially his children who were brave enough to actually wash and watch his dead body.

I am here now and all my senses are numb. The next moment, my aunt holds me in a tight embrace and whispers in my ear 'Are you afraid, honey?' she says 'Don't be. It's just like he's sleeping'. And because I am a fool, I believe her and enter the room.

There he is, lying on the floor. Someone says 'kneel down and kiss him...'

'Go on now...'

But I can't. I am too weak to do that. Catching a glimpse of him there, I walk out quickly, thinking of how stupid I am to believe that he is sleeping. He is not, simply.

I go back to where I was before I made the bravest and stupidest decision in my life. I watch my brother, so tough that his face is the colour of bright red without any tears. I look around and watch my two cousins, the same state of face as my brother's. And then, I lay my eyes upon my Dad and my uncles. They are too numb to what's happening that they are not crying, I decide, because only that explains why they're actually holding on.

Where's my grandmother? I ask myself. Then hushed whispers flows in and I know they were about to take him to the grave. I close my eyes as they pass his coffin and out to the door although I catch a slight glimpse of the brown wooden coffin.

I try my best to not think of what this means but I fail to do so, because, for the first time, it's all real to me:

He's gone….
Not coming back again….
The last time…

And I cry and cry in silence, not letting out any voice out as I am sure there isn't any.

'Allahuma sakinho fi fasee7i janaatik' a woman starts praying for his soul and I keep crying and saying Amen all along. For the first time, I hear my grandmother's voice. She lets out a high-pitched scream that make me jump off my feet. She's crying so loudly that I can hear her even though she's at her room and I'm in the living room, surrounded by strangers.

After the prayers, a woman says to me 'Do you know who I am?' I look at her stupidly. I do not care if I am rude or not but this isn't the time. She just says 'Your grandmother used to bring you to my house and you were running around with diapers' she laughed at a memory of mine that I didn't recognize or didn't actually care to.

Some of the women look at me and acknowledge each other 'She's X's daughter'. I look around once more and notice that I'm the only granddaughter who dared to attend my grandpa's funeral. The rest are not capable of doing this, my older sister included.

Flashes of his last moments with us are appearing in front of my now-foggy eyes.

~*~

When I first knew about his condition, I wanted to visit him at the hospital. He has been there for a week and I knew I must visit because I'm usually the one who does. My sister hates hospitals and can't watch sick people sufferings and miseries. I can't too but I vowed to so as to be there for the people I love no matter what.

I entered his room and he immediately asked 'Where's Mohammed?' Mohammed is my brother and has always been my grandpa's favourite. 'He wasn't allowed to come', I said because he's under-aged.

One week later, I heard Dad talking to Mom about his condition and how the doctors asked to take out the respiratory device that is helping him breathe. My Dad's brothers and sisters, Dad said, insisted on keeping him alive.

And Dad made the right decision, because, once, when it was dad's turn to sleep next to grandpa's bedside, he woke up and said 'You're a good son'. He lived another 2 weeks before passing away. Dad still remembers what he last said to him. It means a great deal to him and I'm proud of their relation for eternity.

May god bless his soul, I loved him so much and I still do.

Earthquake After Another

I can clearly remember the first day of January, and before that, how everyone greeted each other with a happy new year and made a huge fuss on twenty-ten. No longer did this celebration last after Haiti’s earthquake with a magnitude of 7.0 on Jan, 12th, when more than 230,000 people were killed in a matter of 35 seconds only.



Followed shortly by Chile’s 8.8 magnitude earthquake on February, 27th which killed at least 528 people.


And an aftershock earthquake, magnitude of 6.6 hits Chile on March, 5 causing more damages to the already shocked and devastated country.

Just yesterday, March, 8th, an earthquake of 6.0 magnitude hit eastern Turkey, killing at lease 57 people.

A list of significant Earthquakes in the year 2010:

* Magnitude 6.0 Eastern Turkey ~ March 08, 2010
* Magnitude 6.5 Southwest of Sumatra, Indonesia ~ March 05, 2010
* Magnitude 6.6 Offshore Bio-bio, Chile ~ March 05, 2010
* Magnitude 8.8 Offshore Maule, Chile ~ February 27, 2010
* Magnitude 7.0 Ryukyu Islands, Japan ~ February 26, 2010
* Magnitude 6.9 China-Russia-North Korea Border Region ~ February 18, 2010
* Magnitude 5.9 Offshore Northern California ~ February 04, 2010
* Magnitude 7.0 Haiti Region ~ January 12, 2010

Source

قُل لَّن يُصِيبَنَآ إِلاَّ مَا كَتَبَ الله لَنَا
~التوبة :51

May they rest in peace..