the pens have been lifted, the pages have dried

عن أبي العباس عبد الله بن عباس رضي الله عنه
قال كنت خلف النبي صلى الله عليه وسلم يوماً فقال:

يا غلام ، إني أُعلمك كلمات :
احفظ الله يحفظك
احفظ الله تجده تجاهك ،
إذا سأَلت فاسأَل الله ،
وإذا استعنت فاستعن بالله ،
واعلم أن الأُمة لو اجتمعت على أَن ينفعـوك بشيء ،
لم ينفعوك إلا بشيء قد كتبه الله لك ،
وإن اجتمعوا على أن يضروك بشيء ،
لم يضروك إلا بشيء قد كتبه الله عليك،

رفعت الأقلام وجفت الصحف

رواه الترمذي وقال : حديث حسن صحيح

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Abu al-Abbas ibn Abdullah bin Abbas reported,

One day I was behind the Prophet (pbuh) and he said to me:

O young man, I shall teach you some words (of advice):
Be mindful of Allah and he will protect you
Be mindful of Allah and he will find Him in front of you
If you (have need to) ask, ask of Allah;
If you seek help, seek help of Allah.
Know that if all the Nation were to gather together to benefit you with something,
they would not benefit you with anything
except that which Allah has already recorded of you,
and if they gather together to harm you with something,
they would not be able to harm you with anything
except that which Allah has already recorded against you.

The pens have been lifted and the pages have dried

Al-Tirmidhi relates this and says: good, genuine Hadith

Can you hear me now? 50 and lonely

What is it about women in their early 50's that they always seem lonely?

In observing the women I live with, as well as relatives and friend's mothers, they all seem desperately lonely. My not very social aunt, in her mid-50's, has been making a lot of attempts to reconnect with friends from her youth, emailing people who might have went to middle school with her, calling people who were my grandmother's neighbors in the mid-70's.

My mother, whose best friend passed away several years ago, has also reconnected with college friends who she hasn't been in contact with for years. My mother's quite social and has lots of friends. But on any Friday night, I could walk into the house to find my mother sitting alone and looking relieved that there's someone finally someone to talk to.

Even a friend's extremely independent mother, a socialite who throws unparalleled parties and has what seems like an exciting social life, who has become a drain on her children because she refuses to be left alone.

How unfair is life to these women?
Most of which have dedicated the past 15 years, at least, of their lives to their families. Spending their time between making sure their children are healthy, happy, and somewhat successful. Feeding them, helping with homework, keeping them entertained, all the while not realizing that their own relationships are unraveling before their eyes.

Then waking up one morning, after these kids have grown up and are leading their own lives, to a seemingly empty life?

What happens then?

Do they frantically try to collect the pieces of a life that once was?
Is that what happens?
Do they cling to their children and meddle in their lives?

Most of my friends, married or married with children, have already began pulling back from a lot of their friendships, mostly because of social obligations and limited amount of time, which is understandable. But I wonder, whether this is where we, as women, set ourselves up for the inevitable loneliness in middle-age.

We never learn to maintain friendships. Our chosen relationships are not a priority.

What about men?
Does the same thing happen? Or is our culture more forgiving of allowing men to have friendships throughout the years?

Are we all, regardless of age or gender, lonely and just keeping busy?

On Judgement: Remembering Ma'ez

I've heard somewhere, probably the Oprah show, that life keeps presenting us with a lesson until we learn it. I feel like for awhile now lessons about judgment have been presenting themselves to me.

Over the past couple of weeks, I've heard stories either through friends or about friends where restraining my thoughts and judgment about the "perpetrator" of these stories has been quite a challenge.

Between alcohol poisoning, OD-ing, rape, adultery and abusing parents, these first or second person accounts have been soap opera worthy.

It just all makes me wonder if I'm being tested. I mean, my morally righteous friends and I, who have have perhaps made "good decisions" whether guided by personal beliefs "7aram", fear of societal shame and worries about reputation "3aib", or because our lives have not given us the opportunity to stray yet, do we really have the right to judge anyone?!

As a Muslim, I feel judging people can be detrimental to my own Eman. Do I think I'm infallible? Or just because their sins are so pronounced and mine are concealed (atleast for now) that I am somehow better? Do I not believe that they are capable of tawba (repentance) and that God is all-loving and all-forgiving?

Withholding judgment is not easy by any means. But just recognizing that we are passing judgment and that we're probably not that much better off than those being judged could somewhat help restrain my thoughts. Also, remember the Prophet's words about Ma'ez (link in Arabic).

After all, who knows if you're last few minutes on Earth will be spent in the arms of a five-dinar-hooker? (Or as a five-dinar hooker?)

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I realize my recent posts have been heavy and philosophical. I'll try to get something light and funny up here sometimes soon.

Whatever. It's my blog. I can do anything I want. You're not the boss of me.

Can you hear me now? "Kuwaitis are materialistic"

Upon leaving a friend's fancy baby reception (istiqbal) at a hospital; my friend, M, makes a comment about how the Kuwaiti society has become materialistic and "shinsawi? ba3ad...".

She said, there's really nothing to do about it and you have to play along.

Although that sentiment is not new, I find that the people who make such statements are often justifying their excessive behavior*.

Putting a stop to the "let's top that" attitude takes some effort and gumption.

A long conversation followed about society, materialism, and our role in it but these are my thoughts:

We create our own realities, live our own lives.

"We" are not "chithee". You are.

(1) We choose our social circles.
Although we don't choose our family, we do have some say in our social circles. If it bothers you so much, or you're trying to get out of it, don't be around people who are self-obsessed and materialistic. (I'm not saying its easy...I'm saying its possible.)

(2) We choose to care.
Very few people actually deeply care about what we do, wear, etc. They need a topic to discuss. People won't care that you didn't have a fancy baby reception at a hospital, they don't want to worry about inconveniencing their selves by having to visit you at home. Some might talk because they have nothing better to do.

The problem is that regardless of how strong or mild the social pressure is, we don't want to have to deal with it. We don't want to stand up for what we believe for a single second.


Isn't that why we end up with a crazy hospital bill (that has little to do with the medical care we received)? To have other people come in dressed to the nines only hours after having a life-altering experience, choosing to spend that precious time away from our babies and partners?

Isn't that why we buy cars that take up a big chunk of our monthly income? To prove that we have money to other people. God forbid we actually live within or below our means. That would mean we're middle class .

And I truly apologize for this statement but if your parents are rich and you have a crazy expensive car that you can't buy on your own, then you're a mooch.

Today's lesson: Quit complaining. This is a mess of our own making. Let's work on fixing it.

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*She recently bought a car worth around KD 25,000. She makes around KD 600 per month. Her car note's around KD 250. And complains about being penniless before the end of the month.

Can you hear me now? Equality and Bedou

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NOTE: I included tribe's names in the post. It's not meant to offend or belittle anyone. It just reads more authentic with then when I wrote it without. Tribes names were not changed. No bedou/7athar, Sunna or Shi3a were harmed in writing in this post.

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Last night, I was at a friend's monthly girl diwaniya. Meeting new people is a lot of fun.

Minor problem, several girls were saying things that made me extremely uncomfortable:


On elections:
"Mako wayed i3yal 3awayil nazleen bilinti5abat, a'3labhum..." she then makes a squirming face and a belittling hand gesture. (translation: there aren't that many candidates from large families i.e."Sunni, non-bedou, rich people" running)


On the freak storm:
"Bricks from our neighbor's house fell onto their covered garage and damaged their cars," upon expressing our sympathies, she adds, "3adi, 3awazim." (translation:it's okay they're from _a certain tribe_.)


On family:
I asked a girl who her mother is (she started it!) and she says "Al-Ajmi, bes moo bedou wallah." It turns out her uncle was a co-worker of mine and I know his family well; they are bedou.

The same girl turns to a girl sitting between us (who, like me, happens to have a tribal last name) and asks her about her mother, upon hearing the last name (a common but unfamiliar name) she goes, "Ee ya3ni zaineen." (translation: "yeah they're okay.") (awkward.)

We say a lot when we think we're in a safe setting.

Equality, my bunions.

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Upon getting ready to leave, I pulled out my folded abaya and hijab and unraveled them while talking to one of the girls. She gasped, "you wear hijab?!" The other six girls sitting around chimed in, "I didn't expect that." "I didn't imagine...you don't look like the type!"

What was that about? I'm taking it as a compliment that my hair wasn't flat.

There's a hijab-wearing type?

can you hear me now? تاتش& مودي

As I eavesdropped into two guys's conversation at the Avenues Mall today (I know...bad G!..but much more fascinating than my sister talking about 7th grade) I wondered:


When did "mood" and "touch" enter the Kuwaiti lexicon?


It's a pet peeve of mine when people use English words and change their meaning in Arabic!!
Case in point: the two guys in the adjacent tables, late 20's, talking:

Guy #1: (talking about boss at work treating him badly)"ana kilish moo moody chithee"

Guy #2: "inta min mita 9ayer iltouch bainik o'baina?" (about the boss)

I've heard mood being used like that several times now. It drives me insane.

But if you want to see me go crazy I hate it when people say "touch". I'm sure he doesn't mean his boss made an inappropriate homosexual advance towards him...NO TOUCHING HAPPENED!! Why the hell would you say touch?

If anything a "touch" is a good thing!

Please join my campaign to stop the simultaneous bastardization of Arabic and English. I'm all for mixing languages (after all, I can't be that big of a hypocrite) let's just stay true to both when we mix.

Think about it this way: Every time you say something stupid like "touch" and "mood" a hair follicle dies and a fat cell makes your love handles its home. In time you'll be left stupid, bald and fat.

Not that I have anything against chunky bald people. Really, I don't. I'm just saying it's unattractive. You being stupid, not being fat and bald.

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Just to show y'all that I now know how to insert a line. (Oh shut up you internet prodigy!)

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Look mom! I did it again!

Can you hear me now? Zing!

We're all at the maternity hospital with my sister. My sister in law, who has a six month old son, and me are in the room. A female relative in her early 40's, known for her crass nature, enters the room.

After greeting us all with kisses she settles in (and takes aim).

Relative to sister: Another boy! You'll have to try for a girl sometime soon. (Zing!)
Sister: Allah Kareem; the most important thing is that the baby's healthy al7amdilla.
Relative: No. You have to have a girl. You don't understand how different a daughter is.
(My sister gives me a look, I control my smiles.)

Relative then turns to sister in law: Your baby's how old now?
SIL: Six months.
Relative: Mashallah. You should get pregnant soon. (Zing!) It's better to have children close in age. And you have to have a girl. The house is full of boys, the need a baby girl.
SIL: Inshallah, I'd love a girl...but I don't know, I just went back to work...
Relative (interrupting): What are you waiting for?

I interrupt the conversation by offering some sticky sweet tiny caramel bar and coffee.
Relative (looks up at me): Have you gotten a job yet?
Me: Not yet. Allah Kareem.
Relative: You shouldn't have quit your job; it was a great job.
Me: It's all naseeb.
Relative: What do you have? You're not married. No children. And no job. (ZING!)

I don't respond. My sweet SIL starts talking about our cousin getting engaged diffusing the awkward situation.

The woman went from 0-60 in no time. She spent less than 10 minutes with us because her husband was waiting outside, yet managed to make everyone in the room feel bad in one way or another. That's what I call talent.