*sheepish chuckling at last post*

Well, I have officially become an indignant, finger-wagging mother; the finger-wagging being directed at the general population at times and at others, a tantrum-y spoon-demanding Asma.

Alhumdulillah for black tea. Alhumdulillah for the times I remember to drink it before it runs cold. Alhumdulillah for everything that Allah subhanahu wa ta’aala has blessed me with. :)

I’m studying Islamic Counselling this semester with IOU and boy, is it exciting! It is an area of study that combines Islamic knowledge with modern counselling methods that are compliant with the Islamic belief system. That in itself shows how relevant of a subject it is in our communities. So, this is one subject I am enjoying thoroughly this semester. That is, when I actually muster myself to sit and study. So this is one subject I thoroughly enjoying starting to study this semester. :E

Okay I have things to do.




I am  angry today. I am angry because someone who is close to me and my daughter called her ‘cunning’. And then laughed about it. I am angry because the reason they called my one and half year old cunning was…I don’t really know the reason behind this. I’m angry because every time a toddler tiff take place, instead of correcting behavior there seems to be a lot of unnecessary (and oftentimes imaginary) ‘reading into’ the looks these children give each other. Not to mention the copious amounts of complaining about noises children are known to make since the time children were first discovered. I am angry because so many times unreasonable demands of children are unfairly met when they could easily have been taught better and so many other times when children are acting up and are cranky or stubborn or just being childlike because it hasn’t been much time since they came into the world and acting like children comes naturally to them, instead of teaching gently, there’s a whole lot of audible observations on how ‘bad’ a child has become. Or how cunning.

Haha, ok that was a bit of an overkill. Alhumdulillah I’m not angry anymore but all the same, I do not like children being called cunning. Also that children are being spoilt or expected to behave like adults as and when it suits us best.






This post is posted for reminiscing purposes.

My parents, and one of my three brothers and one of my two sisters had flown out to Oman soon after we returned from India some weeks ago and alhumdulillah, it was so good to have them home. I was so excited I threw a water bottle in the air (by accident) and made a nice cool puddle for them to step into, right after they arrived. :E Asma loved the company (and attention) and happily roamed around the house untroubled by toddler woes. Our sight-showing skills were soon put to test though when we tried going to the enclave/village/beach place but realized too late that we had started too late and we had to turn back halfway before it got too dark. Then we tried the other beach where they used to have boats for a ride but they’re building a resort there and the roads are blocked so we had to make do with the detour signs and the dry mountains which made my sister parched :E

We did however reach the Sink Hole, much to the delight of the tiny fishes who feasted on my husband’s and father’s feet. They were quite the spectacle, laughing at their tickling feet, proud of the entire schools their feet had drawn to themselves. The water was refreshing and we watched the antics of a halfhearted dare-devil before making our way across the rough rocks and up the staircase, originally built for Saad Squared. And by the time we panted our way up again, we felt the summer sun sweating down upon us in all its afternoon glory.

The other events are forever etched in my sisters heart so I don’t need any records to remember.


Also, this time in India, one of my cousin sisters remembered I love pomegranate and sneaked into the kitchen and got me a big bowl of picked fruit while we were all talking. Alhumdulillah for such kind gestures. :)

That’s all to reminisce for  now.




We’re going out for a nocturnal picnic. Asma is dressed more appropriately for a sunny spring day at the park but since she’s my laddoo, we\re always dressed for spring. :D Alhumdulillah.

I have resolved anew to keep my purple mobile phone away from my springy daughter.

Where are the Happy People?


To put things in its proper chronology, I had intended to write this post soon after my visit to India but had to give exams on my return and then my parents and brother-sister fantaas duo came down for a visit and we got busy having fun in general (hehehe, alhumdulillah) and so this post remained unwritten until now.

Well, sometime during my visit in India the realization struck me that most, if not all the people I meet are, to different extents, grumbling. Grumbling about big things and small, grumbling about short things and tall, grumbling about things thin and fat, as they stand and as they squat. :D All in all, it is rather unpleasant to realize that everyone keeps grumbling and that only adds to you grumbling if you weren’t already. Where are all the happy people? Where are the open smiles and sighs of contentment and whispers of alhumdulillah. Why are people so bent on being unhappy? The scarce happy people I did meet were like breaths of fresh air. And alhumdulillah for them, and for all the other happy people in my life. Maybe it’s because we seek perfection in us and in our relationships and in our lives in general and get frustrated when things don’t go as we planned. But that’s ridiculous considering this is not jannatul firdous.:D (May Allah grant us all Jannatul firdous:) May Allah grant us contentment in what He has blessed us with and make us grateful to Him.

“Look at those below you (less fortunate than you), and don’t look at those above you, for this is better.” [Muslim]

Ok I promised S I will post in one minute so I will stop here.


Honestly, it’s astonishing to realize that we’re already on the 22nd night of Ramadan. SubhanAllah this has been one quick, busy Ramadan. And a tragic one too, what with all the bloodshed in Palestine. May Allah bring swift victory to His slaves and ease their suffering. :(


Today many of my school batch-mates graduated with engineering degrees and it’s amazing to realize while you’re reading through their happy announcements on social media that we’ve come so far. These are girls you grew up with right from kindergarten through your awkward teens and already life has taken so many different courses for us. And inevitably we have changed, maybe not changed as friends who meet each other after years like you’re fondly embracing your cozy childhood but changed in how we react to things and what we want out of life. Or about how we see ourselves today. Or when we read an opinion from someone we know and realize we do not think in like manner anymore. Or when reading from someone you’d always thought to be different from you, realize that these thoughts are just like yours.


I suppose this is abrupt but it can’t be helped. M, I know these past couple of years both of us have been so busy with our own lives and have barely kept in touch,but know that I truly still thank Allah subhanahu wa ta’aala for granting me a friend like you who has been genuinely happy about my happiness and who has supported me and has never once made me feel like I cannot talk to you about how I feel about fulaanun fulaan issue or what have you. :D

Alright, I would continue but it’s getting late as it is and I need to get on.

So make your own conclusions readers and try to make it rhyme. :D

May Allah grant us righteousness and courage and bless us abundantly these last few days of Ramadan.


The S Post


Well my husband caught up on my blog and insisted on me writing more and since I always wanted to have an S Post, I figured now is as good a time as any. Hehehe, how do you like reading ’bout yerself? :D

Dear S, 

You, dear sir, are the best of all my friends and also the tallest. You know that Allah has made you dear to me since I keep yapping about it to you anyway (in hopes of a 100 rial husband voucher at a bookstore ;) so I’ll just give you gigantinormous internet high-five for being such a charmer (haha!) and for making me look like I’ve landed from Lilliput when I stand next to you. :D 

May Allah reward you and increase you in goodness and may He bless you with good company always! Allahumma ameen!

This Post Is To Be Read in Children’s Book Tone


Today my charming husband decided it was about time we all went on a family picnic of sorts. Soon after Asr we packed ourselves into the car and drove and drove and drove along winding roads cutting through and climbing up mountains. Then we drove and drove and drove some more through tiny villages, laughing about the only barber, the only tailor and the only shawarma shop we could spot. :D Then we drove and drove and drove even more, gaping at the marriage procession, trying to guess who the groom was, pointing at all the hairy mountain goats and exclaiming when we were given glances of the open sea from between the peaks.

We finally reached the beach and I happily skipped out of the car and proceeded to skip across the sand to the water but the sand was too loose and the water much too far. So we trudged along, with our feet burying into the sand and the sand filling our boots and a giant bee flying so close it procured a few screams out of me. We stood by the water and breathed in the sea-air and felt the sun shine for a grand total of 3 minutes before we raced back to the car to drive, drive and drive some more back home. :D You might wonder why we drove so much and didn’t even soak our feet in the water but the road was too long with no streetlights and we wanted to get back before dark. Also, I was probably the only one who wanted to get my feet :D In spite of that, it was a fun ride to and from the beach and alhumdulillah for that. On our way back we caught a sight of a slight breeze rippling the surface of a lake, it felt so calm and beautiful, subhanAllah. 


Asma is awake. 

Not that she’s fussing, alhumdulillah.



I love daughters. You might roll your eyes considering I have just one daughter and don’t know what it is to love a son but all the same, I love daughters. Especially shaani-shaini, Asma-type daughters. Hehehe. May Allah bless her with beautiful manners and a strong love for the deen and good friends. :)




Allahumma maa amsa bee min ni’matin au bi ahadin min khalqik faminka wahdaka laa shareeka laka fa lakal hamdu walaka ash-shukr.

O Allah, whatever blessing I or any of Your creation have risen upon, is from You alone, without partner, so for You is all praise and unto You all thanks

Well, today was a good day in spite of everything. Asma taught me a game with the broomstick, where she hands me the broomstick and I raise it to put it on the other side of the bed. This is funny. So funny that it warms your heart like a little-baby-Asma-hug when she’s overcome with giggles and runs off to get the broomstick again. What doesn’t tug at your heart like a little-baby-Asma-hug is little baby Asma’s superpower of creating messes in half a minute or less. :l Which is why the broomstick is out so often, which is how she learnt her broomstick game. :l

Well, alhumdulillahi ala kulli haal, I do get help so I shouldn’t be one to complain. Okay time for bed. That was abrupt but it’s time for bed. :P