26 September 2014 @ 3:21 AM

What good are shivers? What use is to weep? Throwing a few sighs in between sleeps. 

Like tides, this trouble rises and recedes. In hopes of seeing shadows without a doubt, without the sun. Drowning in oblivion, save your affection, bar none. This feels almost too quiet an existence, too graceful an exit. Am I a galaxy now their eyes can see? Or a mere dust fallen from sullen skies for veiled eyes before me?

I yearn to glide across your vein so expansive like frozen webs of fractured stars limping on shores. I will find comfort in their foreign skins; skins that burn next to my cold. Wherein night is just a failed conviction for a world that unearths only light. Light that bends so vivid we are only left to preach in blindness of being and darkness of knowing.

You used to teach me different shades of white. I am going to have to hold your words against you. For forgiveness comes in flowers. Frail white flowers that slither my chest that pillows my spines that longs for your palms. Palms when held in nearness, look most beautiful. Much like a nest within your ribcage and knuckles that crack a slight familiarity of nostalgia, resting amongst the ridges of your collarbones. Bones that compact like soil on impact that floats like a feather.

Sin is a regrettable word. Seen is just as foolish. For it was never where the lines meet but where the heart is. I’ve learnt to grow fonder of this invitation to love, this chance at leaving, this coming to terms with leaving. That exit is a letter away from exist; A part, just a space away from apart. I vow to be the relentless dust twirling in tandem with the win. To show up, so certain, whispering in kindred with the warmth of your sand. And I too, have grown to have lips married to Your Name, but when will I ever be ready to see Your Face?

6 days ago
27 August 2013 @ 9:52 AM
"You can study God through everything and everyone in the universe, because God is not confined in a mosque, synagogue or church. But if you are still in need of knowing where exactly His abode is, there is only one place to look for him: in the heart of a true lover." ― Elif Shafak, The Forty Rules of Love

"You can study God through everything and everyone in the universe, because God is not confined in a mosque, synagogue or church. But if you are still in need of knowing where exactly His abode is, there is only one place to look for him: in the heart of a true lover." ― Elif Shafak, The Forty Rules of Love

1 year ago
29 July 2013 @ 3:54 AM

East Java, Indonesia

1 year ago
23 July 2013 @ 11:01 AM
1 year ago
9 July 2013 @ 6:45 PM
“Don’t let this Ramadan be just a holiday of rituals. Don’t finish reading the Quran without it transforming you. Don’t feed your body at suhoor, but starve your heart of Qiyam. Don’t reduce this downpour of mercy to just a month of sweets and lavish iftars. Seek Him, you will find. Take a sincere step towards change, transformation, redemption. If you do, you will find Him in front of you. Find Him this month. He’s been there all along. Closer than your jugular vein. Look and you’ll find. Walk and you’ll arrive.” - Yasmin Mogahed

Don’t let this Ramadan be just a holiday of rituals. Don’t finish reading the Quran without it transforming you. Don’t feed your body at suhoor, but starve your heart of Qiyam. Don’t reduce this downpour of mercy to just a month of sweets and lavish iftars. Seek Him, you will find. Take a sincere step towards change, transformation, redemption. If you do, you will find Him in front of you. Find Him this month. He’s been there all along. Closer than your jugular vein. Look and you’ll find. Walk and you’ll arrive.” - Yasmin Mogahed

1 year ago
16 March 2013 @ 11:39 AM
Careless Whimper. A series on the loss of tradition and perplexities of religion’s placement in this dissipation. Of how culture mourns for itself. Of rupture and decadence.

Careless Whimper.

A series on the loss of tradition and perplexities of religion’s placement in this dissipation. Of how culture mourns for itself. Of rupture and decadence.

1 year ago
10 January 2013 @ 7:27 AM


Intimation/Intimidation
conflict/religion

This piece is inspired by the seemingly blurred out line between religion and conflict. I wanted to show the duality of Muslim clothing article, in this case the most identifiable one, the hijab, chador, prayer veil.

How within a solitary premise for instance, conversations with God, it exhibits purity and devotion. The apparel marks a unity and “oneness” amongst the sisterhood (ummah). However, by this clothing article too, within the premise of secularity, they are easy targets of judgmental platitudes. How classification, identification and collectivism are easily brought forth. The “oneness” is pronounced here too, except by perceptions formed from the opposite spectrum.

The subject is on the bed as the bed holds vast connotations. Bed is often associated with death, frailty, isolation, vulnerability or solace. The bed too, offers another dimension; one that borders on vulgar and delinquent boundaries. I wanted to juxtapose the idea of sanctity and the profane. How we choose to allow preconceived notions dictate our personal judgement. How we choose to taint something venerable to something odious. How we choose to focus on the religious signifier instead of the entity as individuals.

Till we are ready to set aside judgments, these flowers will shy away.

Exhibited at Pingyao International Festival 2012

1 year ago
7 December 2012 @ 10:20 AM

My ear drums can contain
But only the ringing of defeat,
muffled by the waves crashing on my two feet.
Distracted by the wails from the sirens of modernity,
the cries of vices, unfamiliar places
pounding on the empty shells of serenity.
The hails of the prayers kill the requiem of dawn
placidity now, a rare thorn

In haste of the chase, I forgot the Qibla of my heart
In the haze of the maze, I let the Mihrab crumble apart

Monumental stillness, Raging calmness

Empty , blasphemy.
Lost, heed the caution
losing my religion, food for the ocean
drowning in fire, freezing as they burn

Helter-skelter, prayer in order

I have to run for cover,
under shelter
between the surahs of my Quran
before the professions of your kalimah
within the inflections of our adhān

But the sirens invaded my head, creeping closer to the shores of my heart.
Ravenous, smearing stains all over my Shahada , pouring sand into this cut

1 year ago
22 November 2012 @ 10:42 AM
peace be upon the hearts in disarray

peace be upon the hearts in disarray

1 year ago