Being A Mom

Being a mom is difficult.

Being a mom trying to find time to shower is difficult.

Being a mom trying to find time to eat is difficult.

Being a mom trying to find time to do laundry is difficult.

Being a mom trying to find time to cook breakfast, lunch, or dinner is difficult.

Being a mom who pumps is difficult.

Being a mom who is trying to stop your milk supply is difficult.

Being a mom who oversupplies is difficult.

Being a mom who supplies just enough is difficult.

Being a mom who undersupplies is difficult.

Being a stay at home mom is difficult.

Being a part time working mom is difficult.

Being a full time working mom is difficult.

Being a mom of a child with medical conditions is difficult.

Being a mom of a healthy child is difficult.

Being a mom is difficult.

It is hard to invest every waking moment into your child. It is hard to lose endless hours of sleep. It is hard to forget about the person you once were. It is hard being a mom with postpartum depression and still yet moving forward.

Everyone tells you about the sleepless nights, about the endless diaper changes, and about how expensive it gets. Yet nobody tells you about the spit up stained shirts, the excessive hours of pumping, the struggle of hearing your baby crying, the never having enough time in a day.

Nobody tells you just exactly how hard it will be.

Nobody tells you thank you for how hard you work.

But you are a mom. You are a hero to your baby. You can have them from crying to comfortable sleeping in your arms. You are the savior of your baby. You are the producer of their meals. Your baby is what makes it all worth while. To be able to watch them grow. Take their first steps. Saying their first word. Growing in their first tooth.

You are a mother and at the end of the day you feel like your work goes unnoticed just know, your baby is proud of you.

Proud of you as their mom.

You are doing a great job, don’t be to hard on yourself.

You ask …..

Allah gives.

You cry …….

Allah listens.

You call ……

Allah runs.

You sin …….

Allah forgives.

You knock …..

Allah opens.

You attend …..

Allah welcomes.

You request ….

Allah accepts.

You question ……

Allah solves.

You plea ……….

Allah resolves.

You take ……….

Allah provides.

You insists …….

Allah grants.

Everything you do is about you

And everything Allah does,

is about you.


Which of the favors of your Lord will you


Begging For Relief 

In the middle of those dark hours of lonely nights filled with pain and despair, and sorrowful litanies,

my heart does borrow from tomorrow’s hunger

trying to gain some freedom from all suffering

when the moon darkens overhead;

I am all alone with my fears and tears falling down from my eyes…

When will my body, and soul be free from pain and deep dark dismay,

of depression?

When will Allah grant me the moment of joy and peacefulness,​ strength without self doubt ?

When will prayers become easy-flowing from my heart and lips?

Allah grant me ease from my suffering make my faith stronger than before

I beg you, for I am your humble servant , following the religion to the best of my ability .

Life Is Short

It was early in the morning at four,When death knocked upon a bedroom door,

Who is there? The sleeping one cried.

I’m Malkul Mawt, let me inside.

At once, the man began to shiver,

As one sweating in deadly fever,

He shouted to his sleeping wife,

Don’t let him take away my life.

Please go away, O Angel of Death!

Veiled Women 

Her long, thick, shiny red hairFell against her back.

Her rich, white alabaster  skin

Gleamed in the sunlight.

Her slender figure outlined,

With her soft voluptuous curves.

But when she stepped outside,

She became a ghostly figure of the night.

Nothing more to the people

Than a dark, shadowy figure of oppression.

But she showed them.

As she walked down the street,

People made way,

Men lowered their gazes in utmost respect.

And others whispered,

As she held her head up high,

With pride in her belief

And showed them how oppressed she really was!

While they whistled at their women,

Looking them up and down as they were

pieces of meat to be inspected?

She pitied their savage ways.

As she walked into the arms of

her partner,

Her only love,

Her husband.

Where she was transformed,

Into her beautiful self,

For only his eyes to see.


There was a time in my youth,

When Islam was only a custom.

They said “say La IIaha IIIa Allah,..

And pray, you’ll go to Heaven.”
Ah, how simple, no struggle in this,

Just a word, and simple act.

Thereafter I’m absorbed in this world


With my ‘assured’ place in Paradise intact.
But this was not to be my fate

For ALLAH chose to guide my heart.

I learnt of a man who struggled so hard

When his mission was from the start.

The story of someone who had morals,

Spoke gently, kindness he knew.

Never fearing to say what’s right,

His conviction in ISLAM was true.
The touch of his hand was as soft as silk

To comfort a crying child.

To mend his clothes, or do the chores,

Never complaining, he always smiled.
A living he made with his bare hands,

The same that held his mighty sword.

Valour shone from the edge of his blade,
His smell was always of musk,

And cleanliness he kept at his best.

Stark contrast with the heroes of today,

Who stink of beer and sweat.
He held the hands of his companions.

Unashamed to play with many children.

So modest, so humble, a perfect example,

That strangers could not recognise him.
His eyes slept little for nights were


His prayers he treasured much greater.

To pray Tahajjud in the depths of night,

Seeking forgiveness, and nearness to his

He broke his tooth for me at Uhud,

And bled for me at Ta’if.

He cried for me, tears of concern,

Just so I could have this belief.
His enemies admired his teachings,

Uniting every religion, every clan.

Till ISLAM came to every corner of the


O, but indeed he was only a man.
To own a house, or build his wealth

Was not his main priority.

To establish ISLAM was more essential,

To bring us under a Higher Authority.
Don’t you want him to plea for your case,

When before ALLAH-The Judge-you stand?

Don’t you wish to be around his fountain,

A burning desire to drink from his hand?

So I love him more than all creation,

My Leader, my Humble Prophet.

Muhammad (SAWS) was a mercy to all mankind,

And to me, he is………………..

Side By Side

They lie on the table side by side –
The Holy Quran and the TV Guide.

One is well worn and cherished with pride.

Not the Quran, but the TV Guide.

One is used daily to help folks decide.

Not the Quran, but the TV Guide.

As the pages are turned, what shall they see?

Oh, what does it matter, turn on the TV

So they open the book in which they confide.

No, not the Quran, but the TV Guide.

The Word of Allah is seldom read.

Maybe a verse before they fall into bed.

Exhausted and sleepy and tired as can be.

Not from reading the Quran, from watching TV

So then back to the table side by side,

Lie the Holy Quran and the TV Guide.

No time for prayer, no time for the Word,

The plan of Istiqama is seldom heard.

But forgiveness of sin, so full and free,

Is found in the Quran, not on TV

Hell Is Real

La ilaha illal lahu Muhammadur rasulul lah
Hell Is Real

I went into my classroom,

Ready for another year at school,

I didn’t want the work,

Just wanted to hang and be cool.

I had on new clothes,

New sneaks on my feet,

I was there for class on time,

Went to the back and took my seat.

Yeah, I’m moving up,

I’m already grown,

Soon I’ll be graduating,

And out on my own.

I talked to some of my friends,

We were all having fun,

Said some things I shouldn’t have said,

Did stuff I shouldn’t have done.

I knew I was different,

I felt God touch my heart,

I knew I should set a standard,

But then I’d be set apart.

Walking to the bus,

I was not looking for strength,

I heard the car tires screeching,

But now it’s too late.

I’m standing in this room,

And I can see the heavenly gate,

Oh no! I never prayed,

I thought I had time to get it straight.

An angel walked to me,

He had a book in his hand,

I knew it was the Book of Life,

When would this dream end?

I told him my name,

And he began to look,

then he looked at me sadly and said,

Your name is not in this book.

Angel, this is a dream,

No, I can’t be dead!

He closed the book and turned away,

He whispered-You cannot proceed ahead.

No…no this can’t be real,

Angel, you can’t turn me away,

Let me talk to God,

Maybe he’ll let me stay.

He led me to the gate,

Allah came to me,

He did not let me in but said,

Beloved what is your need?

Allah, I cried, please,

Don’t cast me away from you,

Tears ran down my face as he said,

You knew what you needed to do.

Lord, please I’m young,

I never thought I would die,

I thought I’d have plenty of time,

Death caught me by surprise.

Lord, I went to mosque,

Please Allah, I believe,

He said you would not accept me,

My love you would not receive.

Lord, there were too many hypocrites,

they weren’t being true,

He took a step back and asked,

What does that have to do with you?

Lord, my family claimed to be saved,

They weren’t real, you know

I fell to my knees crying to him,

Lord, I planned to be real tomorrow,

I couldn’t make Him understand,

I had never–felt such sorrow.

Then it hit me hard, I said,

Lord, where will I go?

He looked into my eyes and said,

My child you already know.

Please Allah, I begged,

The place is so hot,


Lord, you’re supposed to love,

How can you send me to damnation?

He replied, with your mouth you said you loved me,

But each day you rejected my salvation.

With that in an instant,

Day turned into night,

I never knew such torture could be,

Now too late, I know the Quran is right.

If I can tell you anything,

Hell has no age,

It is a place of torture,

Separated from God and full of rage.

You know, I thought it was funny–a joke,

But this one thing is true,

If you never accept Allah


So please, ask Him into your heart

Please show this to everyone you care about(which should be


Be Thankful 

Be thankful that you don’t already have everything you desire,If you did, what would there be to look forward to?

Be thankful when you don’t know something

For it gives you the opportunity to learn.

Be thankful for the difficult times.

During those times you grow.

Be thankful for your limitations

Because they give you opportunities for improvement.

Be thankful for each new challenge

Because it will build your strength and character.

Be thankful for your mistakes

They will teach you valuable lessons.

Be thankful when you’re tired and weary

Because it means you’ve made a difference.

It is easy to be thankful for the good things.

A life of rich fulfillment comes to those who are also

Thankful for the setbacks.

GRATITUDE can turn a negative into a positive.

Find a way to be thankful for your troubles and they

Can become your blessings.


Al-MujahidPeople look at him, not knowing him for who he really is.

His true soul invisible to all but Allah.

His deeds known to none but the One above.

By night when all have gone home

Does he clean the toilets and scrub the floors of the Masaajid.

By day does he work for his family with his hands

Halal money to feed Halal to the little mouths

Never does a person come to him and not go away in smiles.

Gentle and loving is he to the children as they run towards him Screaming in delight.

He shares the silence of the Fuqaraa’

And is no stranger to the troubles of the Yateem.

Unbeknownst to him, Allah said:

“I love my servant.”

And thereupon Jibrael called out to the mukhluqaat: “Love him”

And the mukhluqaat loves him.

Little does he know.

He held tightly to his Deen when it was

Like a piece of shining gold.

He held it even tighter when it became

Like a piece of burning hot coal.

At night does he fight sleep

And arises from his warm bed

In the midst of Tahajjud in tears

Does he call out unto hi Lord:

“Allahummar zuqni Shahadah!”

Defender of the Nisaa’

Protector of the oppressed

Supporter of the weak

Al-Imad alDeen

Guardian of the Quran

His heart has no space for nifaaq or riyaa

Jealousy or hate

He knows no hate or bias against any Believer anywhere.

He was present at Badr

Felling the Unbelieving criminals

Alongside the Rasulallah (saws)

At Uhud he stood his ground on the mountain

Raining arrows of death down on Khalid’s charge.

He was there at Mutah when the three commanders fell one by one

‘Till Saifullah led the Believers back to safety

He was there right next to his brother Al’Barra

In the Garden of Death as they fought the Liar’s army

To open the gates of that bloody oasis.

He was there with Sa’d as they crossed the river

To face the Persians across the vast expanse.

His heart was firm as the horses tread above the water.

Saying nothing but “Husbunallahu waNa’mal Wakeel”

He was there as Commander Tariq ordered the boats to be burned

Fighting the Disbelieving Goths fearlessly

And marched past the Pyrenees to establish the banner of Islam.

He was the first in the smoky pack as Bin Qasim and the others poured down

The mountain slopes, racing towards death with a smile on his face

He avenged his slain brethren at Hittin

For what the savage heathens did in 1099

And was there when Salahuddin opened the gates of Al-Quds.

Truly he was there on that rock

In the Valley of Ayn Jalut, yelling

“Wa Islamah! Wa Islamah! Ya Shababbul Islam!!”

As the Mameluke army smashed their way through the Mongol waves.

He was amongst the first to march out when the Muslimah was dishonored

She cried “Ya Mu’tasim where are you?!”

And soon the Greek city of Amouriah too, came under Muslim rule.

Aye, he was the one amongst the ghostly Jaanissar

As they raced up the tower alongside his mujahid brother Hasan Ulu Badi

Knowing that at the top they would meet their end under a killer rain of arrows

But he raised Al’Liwaa high after Hasan fell; his perfumed blood still marks the spot

And Sultan Fatih entered the city as the Victorious one.

He was present at Jaaji, Jalalabad, and Kabul

as the vodka drinking Russian khinzeer were thrown out of Afghanistan,

and Allah’s Sakinah descended from above.

He was there alongside his brother Zubayr al-Madani

as they fought in defense of Sarajevo airport

He stood firmly as the fighting grew fierce While others fled.

He rode with the shababb ul-Islam to detonate the Crusader army at Khobar

To clear al-Jazirah, true to the command of the Rasul (saws) as he lay on his deathbed

Indeed, Shababbul-Jannah, and not cowards as the Kuffar accuse

When his brother Jibrael Abu-Adam from Atlanta

Fell on the streets of Kashmir, he was there to avenge him

Sending a deadly force of lead bullets back at the filthy Hindu dogs.

He went to Grozny once again to teach the Russian pigs

What it means to mess with the best.

You tangle with the Mujahideen and off you go to that eternal-burning place

He held down the Kuffar as his brother Abu Maryam went to slay that Philippine dog.

Laughing his way through the blizzard of bullets, crying Allahu-Akbar, Allahu-Akbar, Allahu-Akbar.

He’ll return to Philistine once again, that Ancient Land Running to the Gate of Ludd,

To see none other than Ibn Maryam slay that Yahuudi Liar.

For each bullet he takes, he sends back dozen more.

With each kafir that he slays, he knows that

Another one of the Believing women will not be humiliated

Another one of his Muslim brothers will not be shot in front of his little ones.

Allah decides which bullet has his name on it

He feels it not at is goes deep into his flesh

As he falls, with that joyous smile on his face

“La Ilaha Ilallah muhammad arRasulallah! Allahu Akbar!

Look in the sky! Look what I can see! Allahu Akbar!”

Even before the first drop of that fresh blood falls

Allah with His Mercy wipes the slate clean

The angels bearing his soul straight to Al-Firdaus

His soul, like the inside of green birds,

Glides around the ‘Arsh as it pleases.

On that big Day, when his blood, still fresh

Smelling as sweet as the musk of Jannah,

Will flow from his wounds, badges of honor

That none will fail to recognize the warrior

On that Day, when he shall have no fear nor shall he grieve

A Day on which the Book in his Right hand shall be heavy

As the angels send their salutations

On the Day when the Hur al’Ayn give him the sweet drink

From Al-Kauthar with their own soft hands,

laughing and bursting with pleasure

Indeed, this and more is what he bargained for

As he sold the World for that which was better.

And on this day verily does he receive his Rank

“The Prophets, the Siddiqin, the Martyrs, and the righteous. And how excellent these companions are!”[Quran 4 : 69]

Who is he?

He is the fighting spirit of Iman that is in all Mujahideen

He was, and is present, inside the hearts of all the Shuhadaa.