Simply Aasia

I've been struggling to articulate exactly how I have been feeling of late. Tired is the first word but it's not really the word I was looking for. I keep seeing everyone and I mean everyone trying to apply their brand or version of Islam on all of us. And I keep thinking, we aren't the same. It's the thing we disparage news outlets for, we aren't all the same type of believer. And my halaal: Haraam ratio might be different to yours, but does that mean we're the same or that we're different? Well to be fair, it's both. We're both sinning, we're just sinning differently. Let me tell you about life, it will beat you down, with health, wealth and mental load. And every beating has made me kinder in many regards but harsher in others. I used to believe that I was put on this earth to help. whether I was thanked or not. (how little did I think of myself?) What utter rubbish!  When I had oodles of time and energy, it didn't matter. But my ti...

Virtue-signalling, for those who have never felt drawn to the term, is the apparently modern crime of trying to be seen doing the right thing. The implication is that the virtue-signaller does not really believe what they are saying but simply wishes to be admired as a good person. It is most often used against celebs who identify with more fashionable or liberal political causes such as feminism, gay rights, racial diversity or concern about climate change. I have yet to see a popular figure in Social Media in South Africa who have used their religion to (and keep up here) to perpetuate their version of Islam and super judginess on other Muslims. Both locally and abroad. You've heard of a humble brag but have you heard of the humble shame?   No? well... This is a new action, and certainly is the weapon of the new modern faithful muslimah hoping to correct another brother/sisters actions, using their version of what's culturally acceptable versus what they...

So since 2016, I've been mostly in Hijab and its tough. I know why I started wearing it, and it was to be a daily reminder to find better ways of being. Friends and Family, don't always understand. I'm "less progressive now" what they don't know is I will still call you a p03$ in a headscarf. but the point is that I WANT to be better, be more God-conscious. Heres the rub though. Sometimes I get sick and tired of trying to be a better person. It's too damn hard and especially since acceptance came easier outside of wearing hijab.  going out, showing my hair and wearing what I please. regardless of modesty. I miss not giving a fuck! Then I try to do not give a fuck and then I feel miserable. because my stupid ass knows better. I hate it sometimes because this means something different to others than it does to me. but these hijabi barbies will still fucking judge me for not wearing it the "right way" or the "IN the way" and for ...

the more the ship rocks, the more effort you use to find your balance.  I have struggled to maintain balance. I have fallen, I have hurt and I have wailed at my inability to keep up. That's life isn't it? Love, heartbreak, death, struggle, joy anger and disillusionment. I am so disillusioned by my faith, by people, by myself.I just want to draw a line through 2018 and thank God, that even though I am floundering, I still look to God for answers, but I know I am not worthy.

Two years ago today, I instagram'd the moment I walked into my first retrenchment (I didn't know at the time) Last year today after being told I did an amazing job, I was asked to leave for not being a cultural fit. Hijab wearing muslim working for company who predominantly sold hard liquor, yeah I figured But I took the job because I had no other means of income. Its not lost on me, but I can't tell you what retrenchments does to your psyche, your confidence, your ability to say with certainty. I KNOW HOW TO DO MY JOB Between friends who gave generously of their time: my lawyer friend who helped me negotiate a package,  my social media friend who gave me some part time work to tide me over, to  the friend who gave me a home so I wouldn't have to worry about paying rent.  To the friend and her family who opened their home and fed me  all of you who helped me and helped me maintain a semblance of dignity. for those friends who made me cry and reminded m...

Last week, the ghadat opened a memory box that I had almost forgotten. While its made me pretty sad, I can't help and marvel at how far I have come. The memory box was a little sketchy, in that it plays bits and pieces that overlap and blur and still cut like knives. So poor. When I tell people that I grew up poor and still have that mentality, I don't think they understood. Not that I ever explained it. But after my dad has his toe amputated for gangrene. we didn't have much money. I remember exchanging cool drink bottles for cash for veggies to cook. So poor, that when I was in agony because of teeth issues, the thing I remember was it was cheaper to extract than fix (fix meant multiple visits - that we couldn't afford.) So poor that I cleaned my cousins house for money (she was a year younger than me) look at me, Ms Digital Marketer with her own car, and poor person metality and look at how far you've come. I never want to forget again. I remain...

Last night was a tough, beautiful night. I am attending ISR2018 International Spiritual Retreat in Macassar Cape Town hosted by the Mahabbah Foundation . And last night marked the start of the retreat itself. And as per tradition, we have a Mass Ratibul Hadad  locally known as a Gadat,which was so beautifully heartchingly recited. I come from Johannesburg, and much to peoples surprise here in Cape Town. I grew up with it, literally, my father had his own Jamaah and there isn't a memory of mine, where gadat didn't feature. Sundays and Thursdays were almost always for gadats, (which when all you wanted to do, was watch some TV and chill) but we did it. The recitation last night was like a kick in the gut. It created such a sense of longing of my father and my mother who have passed away. Using the same lagoo (melody) I closed my eyes and pictured my father and uncles sitting in the lounge facing the congregation and leading us while we jikr'd with rhythm. My chil...

So while I have been on a downer of note these last few months. Dreamlife asked me to complete the questionnaire below 1. Why did you start your blog and does it fulfill that purpose. I wanted to have a voice online, specifically because finding someone I could relate to was so hard. In hopes that someone else stuck between things would find something they could relate to. I don't know if it fulfills that purposed anymore, and more just a soap box that I can let things out. 2. Whats your favourite post of all time. (your own work please) http://aasiaf.blogspot.co.za/2012/06/lifes-work-and-ambition.html a reminder of who I wanted to be. 3. If you could meet 3 people living or dead who would they be. - My great great great great grandfather on my dads side, An Afghani pathan who found himself in SA and kidnap a norwegian woman and made her his wife. - I need the full story - Then my  great grandfather mom side, who was an off the boat indian from Surat who took ...

No matter how much I overcome, or how much I endure There always seems to be more venom than there is a cure I can't keep at it, this continuous struggle that's not real, but my reality No matter how many of my demons I slay, I have to fight and fight new foes, new days. Ya Allah, why is the first thing that leaves me, is my faith? Why is that the hard part. People who usually talk about Tawakkul, don't know anything about the trouble and struggle of what it is. What world is it, that we will live in, that allows people to play with others fate Who don't have the emotional maturity to look for context. To hate me because Im a misfit.(misfit is the excuse) Maybe because Im not thin. or don't belong to the same clubs Or maybe you just don't like a large brown woman telling you what to do. Maybe you're the douche bag, but now it's me who must fight, I don't WANT to, but I will HAVE to

I'm actually so hesitant to post this because I know some people will want more than I am prepared to give, say or do. But I can't be silent not so much about whats happened, but what I discovered about myself in the process. The thing that happened: I usually offer my services in digital marketing for free for fundraisers and people who do community work. So when a local religious (sheigh) leader asked to meet me to discuss a project. I thought nothing of it. I've met with plenty of them to know how to conduct myself. Side Note : as someone who has recently embraced Hijab, I understand there is additional scrutiny on how I conduct myself in muslim restaurants, especially with local scholars/leaders Flag 1 : said sheigh pitched up in casual clothes and I could smell the cologne on him and could see he had recently shaved and groomed. This made me nervous because the first thing he remarked on was how pretty I was. Flag 2 : he kept asking me, how long I was prep...

The beautiful scary thing is hidden away. Its sheer power to change who I am frightens me and gives me bravado to be myself, unapologetically. Every time I want to take this beautiful scary thing out and show it to the world, I know the world and I are just not ready. So back into the deep dark recess I keep you there, the beautiful scary thing, where I will visit you often and shine a bright light on you and love you and nurture you. That's when I realise, its not my job to present the beautiful scary thing to the world. That is for itself to decide. So I sit here waiting in anticipation for that day to come and I can announce to the world. I have loved you, beautiful scary thing, from the day I met you.

Takes a breathe lets go of the safe harbour spiralling into the depths Heart is strong but afraid Head keeps looking  back but can't turn around this,is.it

Do you know you're drowning? Can you even tell,  or like a slow boiled crustacean who is none the wiser to its surroundings Will you slowly be killed, suffocated and not even realise you could have just moved.

I've always been the good girl, the well behaved -its-the-right-thing-to-do girl. And somewhere along the lines, I got tired of it. I have lived my life out of fear. Fear that I wouldn't be enough, that I'd be too much, that I wouldn't crack it. My fear has taken many forms, people pleaseing, the mediator, the fence sitter and ofcourse the constant need for external validation. Now I sit here and I have taken my first "no take backs" adult steps.  And the world didn't crumble. While I am still fighting the internal fight with my old self. I have to constantly remind myself to be brave and bold because I am looking for a different outcome. So go on, be brave and do something that scares the shit out of you

“I’m quirky, silly, blunt, and broken. My days are sometimes too dark, and my nights are sometimes too long. I often trip over my own insecurities. I require attention, long for passion, and wish to be desired. I use music to speak when words fail me, even though words are as important to me as the air I breathe. I love hard and with all that i have and even with my faults, I am worth loving.” -Danu Grayson

In between the constant tinging of my phone and hooted car horns I find my self sometimes in moments of clarity between fleeting rainfalls and misty beaches sometimes I catch glimpses of myself Between wishes for love and soapboxing my glorious independance Sometimes there's a knock which I answer Between flirtatious repartee and honest confessions sometimes a hand is extended. Between ravernous hunger and steaming towers of food Sometimes I hunger for you Between flip flops in my tummy, and stuttering in my speech sometimes you see me

I have struggled over the last few months, to find something positive to write to about. I have been uninspired and couldn't be arsed about anything. I wanted to write but genuinely didn't want to put any more negative thoughts into the world and really well I needed a boost of some sort, Anyone who knew me as a kid, knew I couldn't stand still. I needed to move and dance and I genuinely communicated through interpretive dance. It drove my mom crazy I don't know if I lost that creative spark, or if by becoming more serious, but those random bursts of movement became less and less over the last 15 years (sad hey?) I then saw this article on a friends FB wall and I thought, maybe if I started dancing again, I would have the energy to return to gym and refocus my health efforts. It did so much more. From the time I stepped back into the Salsa class (which while it was recommended I buy dancing shoes, I was like err yeah lets see how the first month goes) ha! a...

I sought out to forget 2014 in its entirety. but inspite of the epic heartbreak I suffered. I learned so much My biggest lesson though, is no matter how well you think you plan. Allah is the ultimate planner I have no regrets, everything I have done has been my best attempt, and for the most part, thats all we can manage.  This isnt the end of my journey, just some exceptionally windy bits. People: 1. You can love someone so much and do nothing as they slip away,  I wish my mom was still here, but God called her, and I don't question it. But I miss her 2. Everyones journey is their own, no matter what your intention, some people have to find their way on their own 3. Loving someone isn't always enough. Hearts: 1. heartbreak is soul destroying 2.Recovery is possible 3. Embrace your vulnerablity Friends: 1. Forgiveness is easier when you love someone 2. Friends have big hearts, I couldn't have managed this last 7 months without them Family: I have a...

You know that treadmill feeling? You know, you're doing stuff but you're not getting anywhere in particular. What you are doing is treading water. That's the feeling I am currently sitting with, but I'm also sitting with many feelings actually. One that keeps rearing its head is grief. So I sometimes spend nights crying myself to sleep and feel emotionally drained the next day. Its a stage I have to experience and complete when the time is right. I am not being self punitive nor will I expect better. This is who I am right now. While I have learnt to embrace the brokeness of my life right now. There is an urge to start planning my exit strategy. (not of life, if you were worried, just this chapter) I am restless and while I see changes around me. Someone I had my heart set on (stupid) is in a great place and is happy, and has fuck all to do with me. And I am trying to manage it and the rejection implied, with grace. [this right here ladies and gentlemen is m...

my mission has always been to be happy with my lot in life. push the status quo, but be happy at every step, happy at any weight, happy in any place. I don't have the same type of optimism I had when I was younger, but I still believe in life's ability to surprise. There is just so much joy to be found, if only we stopped staring at the dark patch on the wall. I am both happier and sadder than I have ever been. Renewing ties with people I thought I would lose forever and solidifying those I have. More at peace at the person I am, who still stops to check these days if she is crossing lines or overstepping. heartbreak and fear and being told that over and over, makes it hard to canon ball with enthusiasm but I hope I am still that. Last night I was happier than I have been in a long while, and while sadness  (like a cloud, sometimes light and too far to cast a shadow, other times like a full on Jo'burg thunderstorm, your like a cape town winter, silently threaten...