Before it's too late...

I'm praying salaat, and I'm in the qiyam position reciting quraan.

As I finish, I say, "Allahu Akbar" and then bend over for ruku.

Except I can't.

I haven't even prayed one rakaat yet, and I can't bend for ruku.

I try harder, but it seems impossible.  As if something is pulling me back.

And then I suddenly realise that I've become disoriented and that direction really doesn't exist.

There is no up, down, right, left.

No direction.

I really want to continue my salaat and make this ruku.

But I can't.

----

And then my eyes open, and I think to myself, that the reason I couldn't make ruku was because I was lying down on a bed and that gravity was pulling me down.

And it was a short, but very vivid dream.

---

But what does it mean?

Make your ruku while you still can?  Offer you salaat while you still have the opportunity?

What if that was my last salaat, and I couldn't even complete it?

---

I have this poster on my door.  It says,

"Take benefit of five before five:

your youth before your old age,

your health before your sickness,

your wealth before your poverty,

your free time before you are preoocupied,

your life before your death."

It is a saying the merciful Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.)

---

The Little Things

I cut my finger tip with a mandoline. No one seems to know what I'm talking about when I refer to a mandoline; I think my own familiarity comes with years of having to make dawaat salads, and then learning the English term for it in my two-year stint at a kitchen gadget store.

So anyways, I cut my finger tip with it. It's really kinda gross.

 Although the pic is blurry, if you look closely, you can see that my finger nail has an unnatural crescent shaped cut.  And of course, you should be able to see the flesh, that looks kinda like blood in this picture; no blood, only the flesh.

Yuck.

I was slicing carrots, and talking to a family friend about ice cream or middle school or something like that. I was told to be careful, and I thought I was. But I inevitably sliced off the tip, as well as part of the nail of my right index finger.

It didn't help that the carrots were hanging out in cold water and that my own fingers were soft and supple from the water. It also didn't help that I hadn't trimmed my nails.

It didn't even hurt. It still doesn't. The bleeding didn't stop for another 3-4 hours, even with continuous pressure.

But I didn't want everyone to make a big deal out of it. So when the small band-aid didn't really work, I wadded a piece of paper towel and draped it in clear tape over my finger tip.

Little, little finger tip.

How insignificant you seem.

And yet.

I can't eat rice with my hands without you.

I can't rinse out my mouth without you.

I can't touch type without you.

I can't wash my hair without you, and I can't do dishes.

I can't even wash my face properly without you - unless I do that in the shower.

Little, little finger tip.

I hope you heal properly.

I've always been told that I have pretty hands. And nice nails.

And I don't want you to turn into a short stumpy rump of a finger tip. Or even a short, square finger nail.

I'm giving you all the TLC you need, so you better clean up well. And I'm giving you extra Germolene, so you better heal perfectly too.

-------------

Update:  The little finger tip healed completely, Allhumdulilah!  No scar...nothing.  :)

[From my personal archives: June 21-2010]