Last night, barely ten hours ago, I almost lost my life. It was so close, but I must have missed it by a fraction of a second because Allah's decree meant that that was not my time to go. I was shaken. I pray that I am awakened.

I crossed the road when the green man lit. A bus turning the corner from my left must have not seen me because it approached me without slowing down until somewhere between one and one half an arms length away when I had to run to save my life. I turned around and raised both my hands as if to say "DIDN'T YOU SEE ME!?" [Note: I am barely 5''2 and I was dressed in a black abaya because I was on my way home from a lecture, but my hijab was bright]. The most interesting fact is that, even then, the driver did not see me. Even after I escaped being hit by his bus, he didn't see me. He kept going at that speed. Which got me thinking, that I could have been hit, and run over by huge tyres of that bus and other vehicles and perhaps nobody would notice until my body was unrecognizable for my family.

Na'uthubillah, may Allah protect us from that.

I called my mother, and for the first time in a long time, I let myself cry. I let my cold hard heart break.

I thought a lot. Right now, I am afraid of being alone in my grave without anybody to defend me. Having to account for my sins that I keep repeating even after repenting. The Fajrs and Isha, prayers at dawn and night time, that I miss because I just wish to feel comfort and sleep. My hypocrisy. If I had died that night, I would have died without performing my Isha.

However, death should be a beautiful thing that we all anticipate. It is our return to our Creator. It is not the end of existence. It gives us hope to be in a better place, where I imagine, rivers flow endlessly and flowers bloom. I was granted the blessing of seeing God's greatness in the Himalayas, and I cannot consume or imagine the magnitude of Paradise. There will be no sadness, no poverty. I want to be ready and happy to leave this temporary world. I want death to be calm and sweet. Painful, yes, but for the better.

To those reading this, who do not believe. I vow, I bear witness that there IS a God and He is One. No matter who we THINK we worship, there is only one God. And no matter what we believe, we must always pray that we are guided to the path of truth, even if we believe we are on the right path. Because we are only human. I know for a fact that God exists. There is a God who plans each event. If you stop, breathe and reach within a deserted area of your soul, you will realise that there must be a God because there are so many miracles. THINK. SEEK. There must be a God that made the stars that shine and lead us in our journeys (I have been told that the GPS that we depend on, depend on stars. Do find out). I understand it, and I pray that I understand with even more and more depth.

I know that everything happens for a reason. This was a close shave, a reminder for me. To wake me up. To repent. To be good. To remember. As with everything, Alhamdulillah, praise be to Allah. Alhamdulillah because I am safe. Alhamdulillah because I pray this happened for the better. Alhamdulillah. Allahu Akbar, God is great.

BUBBLE

So, in the midst of one of our soulful talks full of depth, my cousin Muna told me that I actually "live in a bubble". I didn't quite understand and found her statement rather absurd. How could anyone suggest that I was "sheltered" and "naive" when I had been making my own life decisions since I was a child? But as with everything, I take it with a pinch of salt and sprinkle some sugar, and vow to think about it.


In many ways we were raised "wild" by local standards. We rode the Sultan's "reject" horses when we were younger. My brothers had been driving with manual gears since they were 10. I drove way before I got my license. Our family roadtrips used to consist of independent and impromptu cave expeditions and diving into waterfalls. I was also independent. By 13, because our domestic helper quit (my fault), I made my own food. I could fall and get back up. I don't complain about things. I'm a survivor. Or so I thought.

My parents had always been traveling since I was a child. I was 3 or 4 when my parents kept going to the Middle East a whole lot. Either my gramps would come over and keep an eye on my siblings and I or we would be sent to our aunts.

* Sideneote: I remember once, I was staying over at my aunts, I must have been about 3. My parents were supposed to pick me up and I had run out of diapers for the night. My cousin who was 8 then, stuffed lots of paper and tissue in my undies as an alternative for diapers. Pretty innovative I must say. You can only imagine what my mom thought when she changed me only to see crushed paper like apples falling off a tree.

ANYWAY, back to the bubble.

I've been reflecting on Muna's statements and somehow its proving to be true. I have some kind of frail protective layer shielding me from something. Be it my lack of identity/self-esteem/certainty.

#1 Literally 3 minutes ago, I was on the phone with the Saudi embassy regarding my Visa status and my bubble almost popped.

Man (in thick as hummus lughat el 3arabiy): What is the broblem? If there is no broblem? Who is yur famili? You sound veri young.

The way he said it was rather patronizing, like, little girl stop prank calling the Royal Saudi Embassy, now run along and prank call McDelivery.

Me: No I'm not young I'm 20 years old.

How foolish of me.

HEALING

I am anticipating the return of my ankle's vivacity so that I can, once again, run the miles and be free. To kick a ball and attempt shots (after a year of not playing soccer). I will let you know once I get there.

Our lives and deaths were all written. We have no clue when our last breath will be. May Allah forgive me for my sins, and you for yours inshallah.

We need to be better people.

I wish to marry someone who will:

1) Lead the family in Sallat from Fajr to Isha.



2) Hike and bask in the heavenliness of Himaliya.

3) Backpack with me through Morocco and Spain.


4) Allow me to name our children:

Gaza
Rafah
Nahla
Aadny
Ranea

5) Share my love for classic Volkswagen Beetles and Hippie vans.


6) Raise our children to be free and have adventures, wild and barefoot.



7) Teach us Math and Science and the workings of the Universe and God.

8) Build our eco-friendly farm house by a pebbly stream.


9) Teach our children to drive old cars with gears, four wheel drives and ride horses.

10) Share our books since childhood and through adolescence and build a library for our children.
11) Write poetry and quote Rumi.

12) Look good and not try.
13) Pick me flowers.
14) Love.

ALEA saw the ring on my finger.

Alea: Khala, you married?

I smile.

Alea: Khala, you married? Who you married? Boy or Girl?

I love Alea.

ADVENTURE

As I elevate my lonesome leg, in the hopes of curing a busted ankle, I ponder about the magnificently magical life of endless adventures that I am missing. I realise that I've always been in constant need of that adrenaline rush from performing Britney Spear's "Oops I did it again" dance routine at 5 years old to prank calling through my adolescence to running on my last breath and speeding. Okay, I lied. not speeding because where I am from, dire consequences entail.

Today, I crave nature, travel, adventure and extreme sports.

And by extreme sports I don't mean Paintball

I'm talking

THE HIMALAYAS

The locals say Himaliya. As if Himaliya were a girl, a lonesome daughter of nature, with overwhelming beauty and superiority yet preserved in humility. Bare. As if Himaliya were a lover who promised to wait. Remained as she is, through Time. Perhaps the cold winds that made travellers shiver were her sighs of longing.




The mountains took my breath away. I could only imagine what heaven would be like. Snow-capped mountains postured majestically, transparent water of natural springs in its serenity and completeness, grey pebbles that stood through time amidst the beauty of Himaliya.

I have:
1) Fallen off my horse on the Himalayan Mountains
2) Dropped my scarf into River Beas
3) Been threatened by drunk men in Manali
4) Gone skiing in Rohtang Pass.



Till I see you again Himaliya.