Today my kids begged me to take them to Harrow on the Hill for something called bubble tea. A quick search revealed we could find this Taiwanese delicacy just down the road. But to utter that fact aloud would be to become a killjoy. I succumbed to their pleas and agreed to take them. Taking …
As I wandered the lanes of our village forty years ago with my little band of friends, I could never have known what would become of me. How could a timid boy like me end up an inhabitant of the world?
If I had the opportunity today, I would apologise to all who were troubled by my youthful gaze. Yes, I would apologise to serious students, whose focus was set on making the grades for university and setting the stage for a bountiful future, who had to put up with a weirdo glancing all around. I …
No, I’m still not a writer… not yet. I write, yes, but is anything ready? No, definitely not. “Coming soon” is a fiction in itself. Half the time I think I should just put my novel in the bin. The other half, I convince myself to keep on polishing, in the hope that one day …
Walking to town, our kids took it upon themselves to tell me off and give me a dressing down. Twenty-first century kids are more confident that we were. I was afraid of my parents. Even at my most rebellious, I’m sure I would never have spoken to them the way they speak to us.
Perhaps my writing is just too subtle, or too obscure. Much as I appreciate the input of an editor, I can’t help wondering whether she’s missed the entire point of my novel. Some of her comments are just perplexing. It’s literally about journeys of faith. It’s the thread running through the entire story. This is …
The months of November to February are always hard, their short dark days drawing a heavy melancholy down on me.
So, after four months waiting (im)patiently, my novel has returned from my editor. It was a worrying period, wondering what they were doing with my manuscript all this time.
“And among His signs is that He created for you from yourselves mates that you may find tranquility in them; and He placed between you affection and mercy. Indeed in that are signs for a people who give thought.” Quran 30:21
To consider how my life has been enriched: Alhamdulillah! What a blessing to have been introduced all those years ago, shy as I was.
You will never know the impact, good or bad, you had on others. You may encounter another only for a moment, or for a matter of days, or a few months, and have absolutely no idea how your interactions with them might shape them for years to come.
I realise I’m not a speaker; I’m a writer. It’s part of the reason my career has so slowly progressed: because I detest the sound of my own voice. My beloved wanted us to start a podcast, but I just can’t do it, for my voice is so boring, stuttery and slow. I cannot do …
The world — dunya, maya — is my great test these days. Everywhere I turn, people seem to be pushing it in my face and now a little voice petitions me from within: “Why did you pursue faith in your youth?” That voice (waswasa) whispers: “That could have been you!”
It doesn’t take much to make sympathetic accommodations for other people’s deeply-felt religious or cultural beliefs. Enabling a young man to wear a dastar or a young woman to wear hijab costs nothing. What is the point of disrupting a young person’s education or future career by insisting on some nonsensical uniform rules that are …
What does it mean to be white? Of course, it is a political construct. I can count numerous people amongst my companions whose skin is broadly the same colour as mine, but none of them are considered white by those that must define us.
