Threads #33

​There are some people we meet that are destined to make us failures. They’re part of our losses and pains.

But you? You’re part of my win. And I don’t mind if it takes me my whole life to get to that win, I will get there. Because when the universe does us favours, we don’t give them up. We don’t let go.

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Strange faces in an even stranger town!
You pull up your cloak to conceal your crown
This place is no shelter for people of wonder
If ever, they existed, they were pushed down under

How long have you lived in a land unknown?
Do you dream of stars, or do you call it home?
Do you hide your light to fit in to the dark
That surrounded you always, with only hints of sparks

But do you not know that it is your scintillation,
That has kept you pure amidst abominations?
Don’t you know this silent rebellion of yours,
Has kept the wounded from bleeding any more?

I am no angel but a chaser of light
Sometimes it withers, sometimes it is bright!
I am friends with your monsters, and you are with mine
And we shall transcend together to a land divine. 



The becoming of the learned man is much like the growing of a tree.

For, as the soil has to be, before anything else, disturbed and dug up from all directions, so must he challenge his heart and destroy his ego, up until the point when he is empty and penetrable- his soul as hungry for his blossoming, as the soil from which the tree is to grow.

And then as the soil captures the seeds eagerly, so must his thirst be for gaining knowledge. Seed after seed, he should plant in his soul with no pride whatsoever over the knowledge he gains; for he knows that there are endless new seeds that could fall into his soil and endless words of wisdom that others have that he does not.

And as the signs of growth begin to appear outward, and he starts to become acknowledged for the wisdom he is gaining, by others and by his own self; he should take good care in keeping the pests of arrogance and impatience away from his plant. Because his only job that he has power over, is the watering of the plant; and that is the manifestation of his seeds. Much like how his knowledge is now to be used practically and his growth aided by good deeds. He is to now put others before himself and minimize his own needs and desires.

He should remember that he has no control over how much his plant grows and so he should never take measures of it. For the growth and measurement is the work of God, and every minute he stops to measure, is a minute gone without watering. And if he were to find that it is growing well, he would be captured by arrogance, and if he were to find that it has grown less than he hoped, he would become impatient and ungrateful; either way it will be his folly to forget that God tests you by giving, and God tests you by taking away and He alone knows how much you will outwardly blossom. So when you start quantifying the good that comes out of you, you interfere in God’s work and forget your own, thus ending up with nothing.

And then as his soul reaches the point at which he can give fruit, he should bow down and hang low his branches and humbly offer his fruit to the world. This fruit contains seeds for other plants of his sort to grow around him, but in a form that is more evolved than the seeds he had in his time of growth; for it is his own primitive knowledge but with the addition of his personal evolutionary adaptations that he went through in order to survive. Much like the fruit of the tree that withstood the harsh climate by adapting to it, and its seeds carry that forward; so shall the knowledge and wisdom he now gives to others be.

And remember that the tree never discriminates between people that come to it for fruit and shelter; so the learned man shall never turn away anyone who comes to him for aid. And the tree doesn’t withdraw its shelter from those who appear evil, it just shadows; so shall the learned man treat the supposed outlaws, the hopeless men that the world has rejected and sent away to rot. For as the evil man eats from the tree’s fruit, and sits in its shelter, his soul too, might blossom into a beautiful tree, and the once barren land shall be turned to green.

And what more shall you ask about the learned man, but this: He never stops looking for more knowledge and better seeds, even when he reaches the position to start giving fruit to others and spreading his knowledge, his roots reach deeper into the soil and stronger, searching far and wide with as much humility as the first time he came to learn. Searching for more and more and more wisdom and never letting pride touch him, because he knows that at any moment Allah commands “KUN” (BE!); “FAYAKUN” (AND IT IS). So as he gives fruit, he plants more seeds, and as the fruit is eaten he waters his new knowledge, and as his fruit grows, he digs up the soil again to renew himself.



In the saltiest of waters you will learn to breathe;
And strength shall you find in agony.

You are not a shipwreck.

You have found yourself in tears and suffocating lungs; have forgotten to breathe. You are drowning. The water is everywhere. Your blood runs heated through your veins, desperate to get to your muscles but seemingly failing. You cannot move, cannot breathe. The sails have all been torn.

There is nothing and no one to offer you help. And you do not know how to fix any of it. Not yourself, not the waves and not the cruel wind from the South and North and East and West. You feel incapable but it is so urgent; you need to save yourself from being shattered, you need to do something!

I cannot.

But you need to.

I do not know how.

You still cannot surrender to death. It is extremely important.

I am destroyed already.

No, my love. No. You are not destroyed. You are not a shipwreck.

You are a chaser of mighty waves; you like riding them to the sky. You are exactly what the storms are afraid of, that is why they keep coming to try and knock you down. That is why, love, you are so miserable.

Storms do not care about wrecked ships and dead people. They only chase the ones resisting, refusing to give in just yet. They chase beating hearts and life.

The tempest is most furious with the one who possesses the power to beat it.

Just reach out. One hand, one voice. If the claimers of love have abandoned you reach out for strangers. Reach out for the air above the clouds. I promise you help will come. From inside or outside. From above or below. Help will come.

Everything that is not deceased can be redeemed. The pound of an organ you feel inside your chest is proof that you are not past saving. You are not drowning until you have drowned. This is not the end. Your end will not be at the hand of frightened waves. They can crash against you, over and over; but you are a fighter.

If you have battled them to survive up till this point in the present, then you already know how. Once you learn something, you can never unlearn it. You have the skills of a splendid warrior, and I know that because you are here right now. Not inside a grave, but here in front of me.

All you need is more armour. Better armour. New anchors and sails. A new wheel perhaps. Reach out for it. Be patient. And most of all, do not forget your love of the extraordinary.

Trust, love, breathe, fight.

You are not a shipwreck. And you will never be.