Category Archives: Islam

To Preserve Another Dream

Last night I dreamt that my dad died. 

I have had dreams like this before but usually the people who died in my dream had already passed on long before.  This is the first time that someone still alive had died in my dream.  And this is the first time a person from my immediate family had died. 

I am not sure how my dad died.  All I remember was that I showed up home and his body was already at the mosque ready for burial. 

I remember that I could picture him in my head wrapped in a white cloth.  I tried to picture what his face was going to look like when I saw him.  Oddly, my mother and my brothers were calm and collected.  Nobody was crying. 

It’s been a few hours since I woke up from this dream so I am trying to recall all the small details.  All I remember now is that we were living in a bi-level house.  I remember I had a calm sense of relief knowing that I had a job and I would be able to support my family. 

I remember I went downstairs to my room.  I was getting ready for my dad’s funeral.  That is when it started to hit me that he was died.  I would spontaneously break down into a few seconds of crying and then remind myself to keep composure.  I would tell myself that I will cry at the Mosque, not at home. 

I got ready and went upstairs to the entrance of the house, where we put our shoes and coats.  I remember looking at the time.  It was around 12.30 in the afternoon.  The sun was shining through the windows of the house.  I remember telling my mom that it was too early to leave the house.  We still had an hour and half until we were supposed to be there.  My mom, still calm and composed, told me that it was alright, that she wanted to take her time and relax on her way to the Mosque. 

I told my mother OK, and I was on my way back downstairs to my room.  That’s when I saw my Dad, who I thought was dead, coming down the stairs.  I couldn’t believe it.  He started walking down the stairs wearing this blue ski jacket that he always wears; the one where the zipper is broken and the only way to stay warm in it is to simply button it up. 

I remember feeling this incredible feeling of joy, a type of happiness that I have never ever felt before in my entire life.  It was almost a complete sense of utter inner peace.  As he’s coming down, I remember him getting slightly mad and giving me a 20 dollar bill.  He didn’t exactly hand it to me, rather he let it go and it kind of fluttered in front of me.  I let it fall to the ground. 

He then preceded to come downstairs.  He began to smile.  I remember that in the back of my head I knew that he wasn’t real.  That I was just seeing him in my head.  But I was still overjoyed nonetheless.  I tried to tell my mom that my dad was here.  But her back was turned to me and I couldn’t manage to grab her attention. 

He came down the stairs smiling.  He said something to me while going down the stairs.  He said it in Urdu.  He said it in two parts.  The first part, I can’t really recall what he said.  And in the dream,  remember asking myself what it meant that he said.  They were words in Urdu that are beyond me.  The second part he he said, he said as he walked past me and attempted to open a door.  He said something along the lines of, (in Urdu) “…with money” or “with this money, you” or “we will be able to pay off this house.” 

That’s when my eyes opened.  When I woke up it was sunny.  I never blinked for a good minute.    The sun was shining brightly through my window.  I have an odd feeling that I woke up at 12.30 in the afternoon because when I decided to look at the clock, it was about 12.55 in the afternoon.  I was so scared when I woke up because I actually thought the dream was real.  I layed there for for what seemed like a good chunk of time trying to remind myself that it was just a dream.  I also wanted to go upstairs and check of my dad was in fact alive.  But I didn’t. 

I have always heard that when someone dies in your dreams it means they will have a long life.  I don’t know if its actually true or not.  But I kept telling myself that this dream is a good sign and that he in fact will have a long life, as a means of comforting myself and trying to overcome the fear I was experiencing. 

I really don’t know what this dream means.  I am not sure if I want to know.  Maybe it means nothing.  All I know is that I am glad my dad is alive right now.


We Will Not Go Down (Song For Gaza)


WE WILL NOT GO DOWN (Song for Gaza)
Composed by Michael Heart

A blinding flash of white light
Lit up the sky over Gaza tonight
People running for cover
Not knowing whether they’re dead or alive

They came with their tanks and their planes
With ravaging fiery flames
And nothing remains
Just a voice rising up in the smoky haze

We will not go down
In the night, without a fight
You can burn up our mosques and our homes and our schools
But our spirit will never die
We will not go down
In Gaza tonight

Women and children alike
Murdered and massacred night after night
While the so-called leaders of countries afar
Debated on who’s wrong or right

But their powerless words were in vain
And the bombs fell down like acid rain
But through the tears and the blood and the pain
You can still hear that voice through the smoky haze

We will not go down
In the night, without a fight
You can burn up our mosques and our homes and our schools
But our spirit will never die
We will not go down
In Gaza tonight



One of the few things that I truly desire in this world is a daughter.  I hope that Inshallah one day, when I am happily married that I am blessed with at least one.  I think that this desire comes from my desire to have a sister.  I’ve never had a sister and so the way I see it, having a daughter would a good alternative. 

Its funny because the last few Jummas that I have gone to, I’ve been distracted  by the cute little daughters that the Uncle’s in front of me struggle to take control of.  They are just so cute.  Some of them will come in with their cute little hijabs on, getting wholly irritated when it doesn’t stay on their heads…when I see a little girl it just melts my heart. Everything about them; their hair, the way they cry and bug their parents, their innocence, their eyes, their smile, their laughter…just everything.

I frequently lay in bed and wonder what it would be like to have a daughter; how wonderful and colourful life would be.  I would just love to dress her up and decorate her with all the little girly things you can get at the store.  I just know that once I have a daughter, I’ll be grabbing every hair bow, every frock, every doll and anything else that baby girls play with.  I always picture myself taking her to the park or to Chucky Cheese’s and just watching her play and be happy.  I picture myself taking her to school on her first day, consoling her if she started crying and utterly missing her while I am at work.  I picture coming home after work and having her run up to me and hug and kiss me and tell me that she missed me.

I would love to watch as she grows and matures into a beautiful young woman, with her own ideas and accomplishments.  Frequently I can imagine having conversations about anything and everything; being a friend to her, having her confide in me, coming to me with her problems and concerns.  I imagine fighting with her, laughing with her, crying with her.  I imagine feeling crushed when something doesn’t go her way and feeling jubilant when everything goes her way.  I just imagine her…being.

I can’t wait until she is born.  I can’t wait until she starts crawling and walking.  I can’t wait until she begins to speak.  I can’t wait until she begins to develop her own thoughts and ideas.  I can’t wait until she grows up and gets married, has her own husband and kids.  I cannot wait until that one day where she realizes that she is truly happy. 

I consider daughters to be a gift from God.  They are like this little peice of heaven that God gives us to enjoy.  They are truly blessings of Allah.  Daughters become sisters, wives, mothers, grandmothers and in some cases, great grandmothers.  They keep humanity constant.  They bring life and happiness to a household.  They bring colour and goodwill, caring and love into a family. 

To this day, I cannot understand how people treat their daughters in the manner that they do.  All to frequently I hear of mothers and fathers treating their daughters as if they were a piece of meat, a slave or something that can be replaced.  Even as I write this post, I am speaking to a friend who is living in a poisonous environment at home.  I can’t understand these honour killings and how a father or the entire family can drive themselves to kill their daughters.  Perhaps I am naive.  Perhaps I will never understand it.  But everytime I hear a story like that, my heart breaks.  To do that to something that is so beautiful…its just heartbreaking.

I have already selected a list of names to consider for my daughter.  And as soon as I am in a position to do so, I will set up a little savings account for my daughter that I will give to her when she enters university.  I also want to set up a small savings account for her wedding.  There is a particular reason for this.  I once went to a wedding of this girl that I vaguely knew.  Sparing the details, her wedding ended up happening in their two bedroom townhouse in an area of the city that wasn’t the greatest.  Her mother was a sweetheart; one of the nicests and most endearing people I know.  Anyways, her daughter was having the wedding in their tiny little townhouse.  There were tires outside on the lawn.  The stairs were creaking when she came down.  There was hardly any room for us to sit.  There were spiders crawling on the carpet.  I can’t really describe it but it was just heartbreaking.  This Auntie did not deserve to have her daughter be married in the way she had.  And it wasn’t really her fault.  Circumstances were as such that they had no alternative.  I couldn’t bare to look at either Auntie or her daughter in the eye because I was embarrassed for them.  Again, it was utterly heartbreaking.  After that day, I vowed that I would never let me daughter go through something like this.  I vowed to save up money and give her the wedding of her dreams.

Even if I were to be denied every other desire for the rest of my life, I would consider my life complete to have even one daughter.  And Inshallah, I pray that Allah grants me this one wish of mine.


The World And I

If the world is truth, than I am false. 
If the world is love, than I am heartbreak.
If the world is light, than I am a shadow.
If the world is an optimist, than I am a pessimist.
If the world is united, than I am divided.
If the world is whole, than I am broken.
If the world is round, than I am flat.
If the world is ordered, than I am chaotic.
If the world is a friend, than I am lonely.
If the world is meaning, than I am meaningless.
If the world is intelligent, than I am naive.
If the world is relevant, than I am irrelevant.
If the world is of God, than I am lost.

Thus is the turmoil of my individual self in this world of great.

-mast malang

Ishq Ka Janaza

Dekh Ta Reh Gaya Mere Ishq Ka Janaza.
Samaj Mein Nahi Aata Kya Ho Gaya.
Phhir Ta Tha Mera Ishq, Khush
Aap Lipta Wa Hai Mere Samne, Khushq.

Janaza Ut Raha Hai Aab.
Namazain Par Li Hain
Duaen Maang Li Hain
Aab Tu Zameen Ho Ga Iss Ka Dewana
Mitti Ho Gi Is Ka Sung.

Ishq To Jawani Main Hi Ta
Jub Iss Ka Tumse Mil Na Hu Wa.
Aab To Iss Ka Kya Baan Na
Mitti Ka Yaar Baan Gaya.

Meri Ma, Heer Ne Kaha Tha
Ke Insaan Mar Sak Ta Hai
Par Ishq Kabi Nahi Marta.
Meri Ma Heer, Yeh Dekho!
Ishq Mera Dafan Ho Raha Hai!
Khuda Ki Marzi
Koi Nahi Rok Sak Ta.

Baitha Hua Hoon Mere Ishq Ki Kabar Ke Saath.
Dafan Ho Gaye Hain Woh Neche
Aanson Ruk Nahi Rahe
Shauk Se Bai Rahe Hain Aankon Se
Aur Tarap Ke Chalang Mar Rahe Hain Qabar Pe.

Yeh Hai Khoobi Zindaghi Ka
Ke Saaron Kay Le Aaj Eid Hai
Aur Mere Liye Qayamat.
Log Apne Aap Ko, Bhainon Aur Baition Ko Sajaa Rahe Hain
Aur Main Is Qabar Ko Sajaa Raha Hoon.  

Aab Kadam Le Raha Hoon Ghar Vapis.
Kya Kehna Iss Tufan Qayamat Ka
Aab To Barish Bhe Uss Ishq Ke Aankon Ki Chamak Lag Ne Wali Hai.
Kadamain Bhe Khali Aur Aawaara Ho Gaye Hain.
Jo Maza Woh Tha Ghar Vapis Jane Ka
Aab Lag Ne Lag Gaya Hai Zeher.

Ponch Gaya Hoon Aab Ghar
Khamoshiyat Ne Ghar Ko Ghar Bana Liya Hai
Aandhera Bitcha Wa Hai Chadar Ke Tarhan.
Ishq Ke Beghair Ghar Khali Ho Gaya Hai.
Ghar Khud Ban Gaya Hai Aik Qabarestan
Jidhar Har Jaga Yaadein Dafan Hoin We Hain.

Bistar Pe Laita Wa
Samaj Nahi Aati Ke Zamana Kidhar Se Kidhar Chala Gaya.
Aik Wakhat Chor Ke
Dusra Aaya.

Aur Dekh Ta Reh Gaya
Mere Ishq Ka Janaza

-mast malang

Happy New Year To All My Readers

By Virtue of Loyalty I wish to congratulate my readers on the arrival of the new year.  I started this blog one year ago this week and I did not contemplate that it would go so well.  My following is small, though growing and I wish I had more time to contribute more posts to it.  But as they say, quality is greater than quantity.  I know you guys desire more from me and Inshallah this coming year, I shall do my best to add to my little space as much as possible.  I thank each and every one of my readers from the bottom of my heart and wish each and every one of you a very happy new year.  Please remember me in your prayers and make dua for myself and my family. 

-mast malang

Remembering Raminder Dhadda

Raminder DhaddaIt was on this day today two years ago that a young woman of the age of 24 lost her life.  She was run down by a van that was heading down a one way street.  She was the city’s first Fatality of 2006.  She would have been 27 this January.  I didn’t know her.  In fact, when this terrible accident happened, I wasn’t even in the country.  I only learned about this tragedy when I got back home a month or so after the new year.  The nature of this incident rocked our city.  In a heartbeat, to every mother and father, she became a daughter.  To every brother she became a sister.  And to every sister, she became another sister.  To those that were blessed with an abundance of friends, she became a friend.  And to those that were friendless, she became a friend.  On January 1, we all became one.  Through the leaving of her soul, we were all connected and came together.

I feel compelled to write about her because more and more we hear about people that die on a day that is supposed to be one of joy and happiness.  It signifies the end to old ways and habits.  It signifies a fresh new start, a new beginning for everyone on this planet; serving as a sort of landmark on our journey in this life.  A day like today should not mark the death of a life, especially as one as vibrant as Raminder’s was.  We should all be mindful of the fact that life is something that is inherently fragile.  One minute our bodies could be full of life, full of ideas and energy.  Our blood could be flowing, heart pumping, neurons firing, cells going through mitosis and meiosis.  We could still be in the process of growing both mentally and physically and intellectually.  We could be making a difference in a person’s life without even knowing it.  We could love and be loved without even knowing it.  There could be so much going on that is connected to the rest of the world.  And it could all be over, just like that.  Thus is the brittle nature of life.

Let Raminder’s life be a reminder to us all that this new year, and every subsequent new year after, live the life that has been given to us to the fullest extent.  It is only because Raminder lived her life to the fullest everyday that it is here on this cold December night that a stranger, someone who did not know her is thinking of her.    

I know that a central tenant in Sikhism is reincarnation.  Let us pray that her soul in a new being makes as much a difference to the world as it did in her old being.  May she be united with God.

Raminder K. Dhadda –  January 29, 1981 – January 1, 2006

Rami Dhadda