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I find that one of the ways to repentance is to call things by their name. Example: You know Allah commanded us to wear hijab.* Hence when you are not wearing it, it means you are disobeying that command thus disobeying Allah. You are DISOBEYING Allah This is what you should call it. No matter your reason or excuse Just reevaluate Be honest and see whatever prevents you whether it is a good reason to disobey Allah. Is there any good reason at all to disobey Allah to begin with. No. So that’s how calling things by their name makes you close to repentance if not take you directly to it. Because telling yourself you are disobeying Allah and telling yourself that you are waiting to be convinced are two different things. If you are just waiting to be conviced what are you waiting for exactly because the evidences are already there. *You just need a couple minutes to gather evidences read them and accept them. Because we don’t reject commands simply for not being able to fully grasp the reason and wisdom behind them. We accept them. And the thing is, Allah knew your “obstacles” and “excuses” before you or anybody else was born, He still commanded everybody and you included with the same things; nobody was exempt from smtg. It didnt say next to each command or obligation: “unless you struggle or face some wordly life thing then it’s fine…” all the obligations have to be obeyed by everybody unless the pen is lifted from their scroll. Even the sick still has to pray and make up for fasts when able to or feed the poor. Is it worth it to not decide to do that now? To go check the evidences when you have no knowledge of when your journey in this life ends. And, by the same way, to get more knowledge about your obligations and how to properly perform them before anything else. Sometimes if not most of the time what prevents us from moving forward is ignorance. How can you do something if you ignore that you have to be doing it or how it is supposed to be done. When you know you are disobeying Allah and that it is bad you are more likely to stop as soon as possible. Unlike calling things otherwise to comfort your consciousness. It applies to everything not just hijab. Call your actions by their true name. Be responsible for whatever you choose to do anyways. Be true to yourself. Don’t try to tranquilize your consciousness. The more you call things otherwise the more you dive deep in illusions and lies you tell yourself and end up believing them. Don’t forget that it’s not for you to define what is good or bad, what is sinful and what isn’t. Only He Who created everything can do so. He Knows everything, He knows the wisdom behind everything and the nature of everything , as He created it. Thus it can only be wise not to follow your own definitions of things. But try to acquire more knowledge about the actual definition of things. Just because something makes you happy or makes you feel at peace doesn’t mean it is right. Even when something brings you stillness it doesn’t mean it is right. Everything should be reached through the right means. Like someone stealing money to buy a house. It’s not because he has the comfort of that house now that stealing money was fine or right. He should have reached that through the right means. So we see here how being homeless and struggling to get a shelter is better than stealing to get a house. The point is to be still, to be satisfied but through the right ways. It’s not really the way you feel that always reflects how well you are doing in life and whether or not you are doing it right. “Right is right even if no one is doing it; wrong is wrong even if everyone is doing it.” ― Saint Augustine So if you care, learn what is wrong, try to be honest with yourself, take notes of the wrong things you are doing, see what is preventing you to do things right and how you can replace the wrong, how you can do things the right way. Because sometimes it could be reall

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Longlisted for CBC’s Nonfiction Prize, 2019 A man once glanced down at my friend’s little girls and he said, “So beautiful! Will they have to cover up like you when they’re older? Such a shame.” My friend glared at the man and said, “Of course” and guided her children away from the sympathetic shake of his head.  A little girl at the park came up to me and asked, “Do you get hot in that thing?” referring to my headscarf and I smiled because I had caught her staring earlier and I said, “No, not really!” And she just nodded and looked some more so I added, “It’s a light material, see? Very breezy” and I guess she was relieved because she nodded again and smiled and skipped back to her friends. After that I used the end of my scarf to wipe my sweaty forehead because damn, did I get hot in this thing.  The interviewer at the internship I was applying to looked me up and down, nodded towards me and said, “We love to have people from all types of backgrounds. It’s good to see diversity in the workplace,” ultimately telling me that I was hired because I was different and so when I sat at my desk a week later with the other interns I wondered what I was doing sitting there with qualified hires with more experience than me. A lanky boy with clunky glasses at a summer camp I volunteered at argued with a chubby-cheeked kid and said, “No, my dad says that not all Muslims are terrorists!” and the cheeky boy replied, “Well my mom said they are” and then they both turned to me and asked, “Excuse me, are all Muslims terrorists?” as politely as you please and I hesitated as I looked for the words to speak on behalf of a nation and I said, “No, not all Muslims are terrorists. There are good people and bad people in the world. Sometimes they happen to have a certain religion.” The chubby kid nodded convinced and the skinny boy pushed up his glasses and said, “Told you,” and they went back to their table and took out their lunch while I held back a laugh that bubbled over my sadness because if only people worked more like children. The white haired man throwing disapproving glances from the other side of the bus scowled when I reached too late for the yellow line that signalled a stop. The bus jerked and I nearly tripped and he spewed curse words under his breath. And as I thanked the bus driver and stepped out into the snow, my chest tightened in anger and fear as I wondered if those words were directed at me specifically or if they were the mutters of a grumpy old man who lost his trust in a world so different than the one he knew. A fellow traveller waiting in line to wash dishes at a campsite in Vancouver grinned at me and asked, “Where you from?” and I replied, “Toronto.” She paused for a moment, hesitance playing on her parted lips and I knew what was coming next. “But what’s your background?” she asked and I sighed and recited the words I had memorized for these moments when I was asked to repeat my family’s history claiming my right to be here. And then without feeling the need to do the same, the lady with her arms full of dishes smiled, nodded and turned on the tap in the sink. My reflection stared back at me in the mirror as I leaned against the counter in the women’s restroom, exhausted and perplexed. She stared with red rimmed eyes as I unwrapped my scarf and let it slide off my head, my matted hair let loose. The girl in the mirror said to me, “What if you walked out, just like that?” and I glanced at the door and back at the mirror and I thought how easy would it be with the weight lifted of my shoulders, to walk in a crowd blended in, to be looked at in a way completely opposite of how I was usually noticed? I ran a hand through my hair and my arms trembled and inside I was so tired, so tired. And the girl in the mirror looked at me, taunting, “It would be so easy, so easy.” Then I stood up straight and I opened my mouth and I s

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