THIS IS A TIME OF VICTORIES

This is a time of victories for those who know 

the Alternative facts,

A time of victory for those who know they were the first?

The ones you know you can't get any higher than 

The "mine!" Because sharing was never a thing

The laws , because "it's the law!" 

Because black is black, white is white and there's no in between 

And the hearts only appear for those "who look like me, act like me, convinced like me"

A time of victories for those who know their own fact book of everyone's life.

They are so victorious I want to ask how does it feel to be soo victorious that you hurt yourself in the end?

How does it feel to be so victorious when you say any means possible?

When your trying to reach for the stars but you haven't even gone to the sky?

Isn't there a way , just imagine , isn't there a way?  to satisfy them too and you ?

So I ask, is this really a time of victories, or are you giving victories accidentally to those you despise because of that loop hole you failed to see?

When do we get to that part

What's this new

New, this new 

This new I thought I knew and heard it

Before. It sounds so distant but like the others 

it'll probably hurt two or three times more. And then there's this new, again. Ugh..

Did I miss something in class , should I go back and try again?

Again and again, well these dreams say I should. 

But the question is and has always been....how and when and how and when does this part get to get here, 

If I'm still in this room?  

The question is, when do we get to that part?

Where its ok, where life is great, when it's ok

How do I get to where everybody wants to, needs to be? 

Cause nobody wants to work anymore, 

Nobody wants to set that alarm clock back once more.

It's the same, the same the same the same 

This new , should I really think it through..?

You really think so?

What's this new, 

Have you seen it

Where is it

What's this new , can you hear it?

THE SECRET LIFE OF MUSLIMS SERIES-MY FAVS

Tired of being bullied, this “MuslimGirl” found a way for Muslim women to talk back:

Before organizing the Women’s March on Washington, Linda Sarsour fought for Muslim holidays in NYC

After San Bernardino, this couple fought Islamophobia with doughnuts and conversation

Why American TV needs a Muslim Modern Family

An American-Muslim comedian on being typecast as a terrorist

BLACK MIRROR SAYS "WAKE UP SOCIETY!"

MINIMALISIM

Unfortunately I was hoping to write a blog about this , before this went mainstream, as most things mainstream tend to loose a sense of meaning. However, the fortunate side of that is that when something meaningful goes viral, it's good thing. Good for humanity. This has been around for a very long while. I'm glad the rest of the world is picking up on it. All smiles here

2016, Hey there friend...thanks

There it was. Staring right back at me in the face. A resilient, nonetheless non talkative piece of plastic. For some reason I expected it to go "poof!" and gone on its own, out of my bag and mind like the rest of the year and my Californian experience. But no that insignificant 1month experience Ross dress for less ID card wasn't going anywhere and neither were the other more dementing and torturesome memories of pain. Even if it is long over...and even if it isn't that difficult to just..remove the darn card from the bag.

I could see that I had a problem, No I could see that I was mental, damaged, on the brink of already lost it. I could see me..no I couldn't see "Me" really, not anymore. These limbs were just limbs in movement and some of them poked out of beneath the skin trying to escape this reality and yet nobody was there to notice how sick it all looked.Some words of sympathy yes, but I was alone. And It wasn't the vocal cords straining in cries but the heart's beat that's been interrupted several times a day in conscience and unconscious nightmares.

I appreciated Ann, the villain, Sam the romantic, Jane the one who lost everything. Even if I hated them, I loved them for completing the story and making it what it was..suppose to be. Flipping through pages of any character based story gave me joy at feeling the density of the words and book..knowing that it had weight , it was real. A product of some kind of life breathing in and out. So why couldn't I appreciate my story?

Was it because I wasn't the author of myself or that I couldn't trust the author? Or was it because I was actually reaping the consequences of the choices I made? I remember saying, I wouldn't go. I remember trusting my gut in that moment of the horrors I realized might come if I went because I couldn't trust him. And then there was regret. I couldn't rid of myself of existence over and over again even if I tried just  to get rid of this regret. I was ashamed of myself, of who I was and what I further became and the choices I made to continue to stay over and over again. The relationship I had with my gut was as damaged as the gut itself vomited on several occasions. But for some reason that gut was always still there, attached. 

And I couldn't believe that I was still here, breathing in and out like those books. Wow! how merciful is he to still be there after all I've neglected. How how powerful is he, to give and and with a blink of a second to take it all away. ..It was GOD, Allah, ALL MIGHTY! When everything in this world had left and was leaving me this beating heart, this gift was still the constant and was the continuous reminder of love that I keep receiving from Allah. When I touched my skin it was still warm and my heart still beating nevertheless. And I said to it "hello"... Can you hear me?" And I cried and apologized for what I've done to it. There was so much that I took advantage of and neglected.

In that moment I found the "collateral beauty."... I kept on moving my hands all over my body, feeling that yes its dense too, it's real too. It's the product of not just some kinda of story, but it was MY STORY. Wahhhhhhh,wahhhhh. I'm hysterical now and I couldn't hug myself tighter. 

Behind was a long line of mistakes and in  front of the line was me. I had a choice to lead this line or continue to try to escape it but no matter what I would be in front of it ashamed or not. And the ironic thing was, if I didn't go through it all, it wouldn't be my story. I wouldn't see reality for what it really was and understand my creator.

Soooooooo, let's hear it for the brave, let's hear for the survivors, let's hear it for The Ann The Sam The Jane....let's hear it for the win. Let's hear it for trump who won and the Triumph the name has given us in standing together in the lessons we've learned. Let's hear it for the friend, who was not a friend. Let's hear it for the 2016. Let us hear it for the great future that our past has corrected.

And the coincidences may not be coincidences anymore. There is a wave length that we all have been jumping on and the time is coming close to stand together. For all the things that happened were lessons we needed to learn to continue our story.

My mom, she said something and I felt a smile.  A feeling familiar. Was it really what it was? a smile? Finally,  I am truly ok...I am ok being me.

Sayyiduna Rasoolullah (Sallallahu Alaihi Wasallam) said, “When everything will begin to perish only Jibra’eel, Mika’eel, and Isra’eel (Angel of Death) will remain. Then Almighty Allah will state, “O Angel of Death! who else is still spared?” The reply will be, “None but Thy Graceful Self, Who is Eternal, as well as Thy servants Jibra’eel and Mika’eel and the Angel of Death.” At this a Divine Command will be issued, “Capture the soul of Mika’eel,” at which point Mika’eel will fall like a great and mighty mountain.

Once again Allah Ta’ala, the All-Knowing, will Ask, “Who is spared?” The reply will be, “None but Thy Graceful Self, Jibra’eel and the Angel of Death.” Again the Command will be given, “Capture the soul of Jibra’eel,” at which point Jibra’eel will flutter his wings, fall into prostration and pass away.

Finally, when the Angel of Death himself will pass away, the All-Wise and Great Creator will proclaim, “In the beginning, I brought the creations into existence and I will once more bring it to life. Where are those rulers that laid claim to kingship?” There will be no answer. Then Almighty Allah Himself will reply, “Today, kingship belongs to Allah Alone, the Sole Controller.”” [Baihaqi]

Deconstructing Feminism With Sukina of Poetic Pilgrimage

Leading up to the KVS production SLOW, a blog was created as a space for different women to give their perspective on feminism. Sukina, one half of the hip-hop collective Poetic Pilgrimage, gave us an intriguing response to the question. In times of increased Islamophobia, this blog aims to be one of many safe spaces where women—some Muslim, non-Muslim, and with heritage throughout the MENA region—can speak for themselves and give a myriad of different opinions. You can read an extract of Sukina’s response below, and then listen to its full version along with many others on the blog.

“What is Muslim Feminism to you?”

One of my biggest issues regarding feminism is the fact that feminism is a 19th century concept, developed in the Western world by white women to help them assert themselves against the backdrop of white male patriarchy. As far as I am concerned, the foundations of it isn’t my conversation. That was what they did for themselves at a time when we were still enslaved, when we were still oppressed. It didn’t really have much to do with us, they weren’t really interested in the rights of Black women and the rights of indigenous women at the time. At the time it was very much about white femininity and white femaleness.  So that is the first reason why I don’t necessarily identify with that concept.

The reason why is because I feel as people of African descent, people of indigenous descent, we have always had a concept of balance (originally) when it came to the roles of men and women. That I think is a lot more legitimate than a 19th century concept. That was also against a backdrop of so much  Capitalism and all these different things. It was almost like feminism was a response to something, that is not necessarily what I’m identifying with. I feel like if we look at traditional African languages, traditional Native American culture, if we look at Aboriginal cultures, you see so much in the roles and the contributions of women and the balance of genders that we didn’t need these Western concepts to give us this sense of self. We had our own thing, our own ideas, our own identity.

I think that when you look at Islam or Muslims and then feminism, when I look at what it means to be a Muslim, I think for a lot of people the word has different connotations. For some people, to be a Muslim is just a tradition of their parents. It is a cultural concept, it’s a construct. For me, what it means to be a Muslim is a very universal, sacred idea, that has no time or space to do with a soul that lives its life in service to God. To me, Muslim doesn’t mean Moroccan, it doesn’t mean Saudi Arabian; it means a soul that recognizes and witnesses within itself that it has a Lord. And that comes with a particular way in which we live. I don’t see that to be a Muslim, that concept came just with Muhammad (peace be upon him). I see that that is a universal concept that has always existed but we just identify it as Islam now.  

With that in mind, feminism which only happened “5 seconds ago” doesn’t sit next to this universal concept. Because for me what it means to be a Muslim is an eternal universal concept. As Muslims in the Western world, we lack self-esteem when it comes to our own traditions, we are very insecure. So we are kind of “siding” ourselves with these different ideologies to give ourselves a sort of identity, a significance. Personally, I think we need to look into our own traditions. I’ve gained more of a sense of self as a woman in Islam than I had prior to that. That might seem like a contradiction for a lot of people. It is not because of a bilog that exists in Islam, it’s because of the tradition, because of the teachings. I recognize that in the Quran, when Allah talks about the soul, there is no distinction.

On the level of the soul, there’s no distinction between a male and a female soul. I follow a Sufi path within Islam, when you deal with Sufism, there comes a point where you get beyond the gender binary. It’s not about, I’m a man and you are a woman. In fact, in some circles, when you travel a spiritual path and gain certain knowledge, a certain level of enlightenment, they don’t even refer to you by gender anymore. They would say, “you are a man of God.” It translates to be “man of God” but it is not even really man. It’s not really about masculinity. It’s to do with a level of righteousness. To show you that, as you continue on this journey, these kind of binary actually don’t really exist anymore.

Not to say I don’t take away from what is happening in Afghanistan, I don’t take away from what is happening in Saudi…that there are issues of patriarchy in Muslim, African countries, but I also feel like we need to look at these countries before colonialism. The same period of time of European patriarchal systems. We also had something before that. I’m not that interested in what white masculinity did as a particular thing to our people, so now we are using white femininity to re-define ourselves. I’m not interested in that script. Do I think it is important for Muslim women to assert themselves and learn their rights, and have some level of equality? Absolutely. But I don’t think they need to go to a book by the Suffragettes to gain that.

This interview was taken by Tunde Adefioye.

http://mvslim.com/deconstructing-feminism-with-sukina-of-poetic-pilgrimage/