He swt declared our right 'to be covered' fard, SoubhanAllah. He declared our hijaab fard as a sign of His Mercy. Yet we fail to remember our names. We fail to remember what our beloved prophet Muhammad saws went through, and those who came before him. We forget about those who suffered and died for the sake of Allah swt. They went through so much pain, spreading and defending women's rights. Telling her that she is utmost valuable and that she should be cherished, protected, covered.
We fail to remember the blood that has been shed. We do so when we perfume our hijaab, and when we show off that little bit of hair. We do so when our headscarves don't match our skinny jeans and when our freshly painted faces don't add up to the beauty of haya. We do so when our hijaab is see-through, showing our beautiful curved bodies to a world that in the end will testify against us.
My dear sisters, you are so beautiful wearing His shield instead of the world's corruption.
Please, for the sake of Allah swt, protect yourselves.
There's nothing more courageous than a man, acting upon his name. And there's nothing more beautiful than a woman guarded with the veil of her Lord.
Him, I told everything
I told Him about the sleeplessness of dunya
And about the dreams of akhirah
I told Him in poems,
As eyes started to speak
And tears started to colour the prayer mat
Every tear, on their knees
Every met grain of sand, sees
Overflowing pages, and their never ending stories
Dunya = world
Akhirah = hereafter
Senselessly, I wanted
No tongue, to prevent me from speaking ill
No eyes, assuming I wouldn't have to see the horrors of this dunya
No ears, to prevent me from hearing anything ill
A numb body, assuming I wouldn't be able to walk astray
Sickness, to gain patience and to get closer to You, Allah
Instead, You gave me
A voice, perhaps to gain patience and to get closer to You, Allah
Sight, perhaps to see and follow the right path
Hearing, perhaps to remind me of Your mercy
A strong body, perhaps to take a stand against all evil
Health, perhaps to avoid me from speaking ill
Achteloos proberen zij aan het licht te sleutelen
Terwijl de hitte van de zon hen inhaalt
If her death is like that of a rose
Turning into soil
Then how is death not the beginning of life?
Hetgeen van de tong druipt
stroomt door het hart