The Best

I had a friend that meant a lot to me. I can easily say that they were my best friend. They were truly someone I was happy to have in my life, and I was happy to see them happy. They made me feel enough, amazing, and loved.

I would say that Allah blesses people in various ways and sometimes Allah blesses you with people. I remember being in a bad place emotionally, and I prayed to Allah for strength, and I think He answered my prayers through this friend. They made becoming a better person easy. They made facing the challenges that came my way easy. Academically, socially, spiritually.

But I think I made a mistake. Along the way I think I forgot that it was Allah who gave me this friend, and I begun to make them the centre of my life. I always wanted to make them happy because of how much they meant to me. I always wanted them to validate the way I was or the things I did, and if I didn’t I would feel bad about myself.

All along I forgot that my eternal compass is and should always have been Allah, and that only brought about destruction. That friend changed, the way we were changed, and I became distraught for a long time. I should have just been grateful for the times we shared. Grateful for the help. Grateful for the memories. But I wanted to own them, to own us, but this friend was never mine to keep. They had a life of their own and their own destiny to fulfill. I didn’t see that. I couldn’t be happy for them because I wanted to be happy for myself.

And now that friend is no longer here. Here in the sense of what we used to be and what we were.

It’s a real pain to have someone you love die but it’s an unreal pain when someone you love is gone and still alive.

And I just pray that Allah gives me the strength to be happy for them and pray for their guidance and happiness in this world and the next, because I know that deep inside somewhere that friend I came to know and love is still there and breathing, and I hope they find the strength to come to the fore again. 

But if they don’t it’s okay, because I would remember anyway. 




I dove head first into a boiling pool that scalded my skin and left me burnt to the bone. 

It hurt to remain. 

It hurt to move. 

What followed on the shore was convulsion and torment, in its absolute purest form. 

Yet I am expected to dive in again. 

And I am condemned for finding it difficult to do so. 

Perhaps I should apologize instead, 

For my lack of skin. 



You grieve because you forget that what defines this world is betrayal. 

It brings you only further into yourself, for you are scared of giving away too much again. 

But to trust is not to not expect pain. 

Because attaching to anything other than Him is pain in itself. 

But trust is to give part of yourself away knowing that you will be fine if that part of you is misused, or lost. 

As it always has been. 

And that is okay. 

That is normal. 



I find that we are all worthless until the we accept the measure of our value as something eternal.

Your once appreciated humour may grow to become stale,
Your once inspiring success may eventually fade into oblivion,

But in the ocean of mistakes and shortcomings and forgets,

There is always God,

to show you to yourself as the beauty you are capable of becoming.


I miss now

“I miss the seconds we have not yet shared.

I have lost count of the times I have lost myself in my ocean of

wondrous dreams,

that I see without the need for slumber

and my eyes wide open.

I can’t help but feel at times that what I see with my real eyes is nothing more than mere memory,

that I am fortunate enough to be able to live again.

Perhaps it is a chance for me to rid myself of regrets

that I have not yet had.

Or to render things right,

that have not yet gone wrong.

Or to appreciate everything about you,

except your presence,

in the hope that I am doing things right the first time around.

And maybe, 

just maybe,


in all His Glory,

sees that too.

And misses me back for it.


I miss the seconds we have not yet shared.”