A letter to Allah

 Dear Allah

It has been so long, since I felt connected, and I have been suffering since then. Prayers, supplications or meditations, these are the typical ways people follow to worship you. I know no one sends you letters, but I am totally lost, and maybe when these words are laid infront of my eyes a path emerges or a miracle happens, I don’t know. 

Now, I’m speechless, not in the way that this word is abused, I’m speechless in the sense of being unable to think of words or even feelings. Won’t this status grant me mercy or salvation? Won’t pausing “speechless” in your presence is simply a proof of my existence in your realm, as a mere faint creature among your infinite creations, a weak, lost, and frightened creature. 

I have been trying to write this letter, or honestly I have been trying to cry for help for so long. Too weak to scream, too ashamed to confront. What can I say? I’m a sinner, or I’m a disbeliever? I think disbeliever is an extreme term, may be I am just a “ doubter”? Am I trying to  simplify my catastrophic situation. Ya Allah, I’m doubting everything, every single thing that I heard or was taught, all what they have said sounds either harsh, illogical or too good to be true. I know that when it comes to sins, I don’t need anything more than following my heart, hearts never lie. But all the other lists of  “ do and don’t” add to my misery, as I’m generally moody, or let’s say I don’t have the will and courage to dig deeper and fight patiently like an atheist  enthusiast. 

Almost every morning I take a pragmatic decision and say “ let’s stick to the safe side”, they are five prayers a day and if I can recite two pages of Quran on daily basis this will be great, maybe I can add some supplications or spend a few minutes after prayers in zikr….. These decisions sound simple, doable and logical, yet within the same day, I start questioning my prayers, my concentration and how whole heartedly I am asking Allah for guidance. After decades of praying, the movements and verses happen mechanically and the prayer comes to an end before making sure whether I was focusing or not. Then comes the next prayer and the next. Skipping reciting Quran  for a day becomes the new norm, and when I realize that it’s Friday and I used to recite Surat Al kahf, I recite it quickly just to prove to myself that haey I am still a good Muslim!

Friday prayers became something of the past, I refuse to sit and listen to someone screaming about irrelevant topics, and we are supposed to sit absent mindedly  with a fake smile till we pray quickly and leave. Ha, a weekly task is done, a religious box is ticked! 

So, what am I doing? Definitely I’m not bragging about my current status, this religious numbness  or shall I call it a “ spiritual void”? I’m not a rebellious person, too fearful of the consequences, but I reached a point where I can’t digest the whole package that we have all been spoon fed. The punishments seem diabolical and the rewarding system is worthy of a clever merchant. I am not comfortable of neither the punishments nor the rewards, something seems repelling and degrading to the relation between us and our creator. 

So what, is it a phase? It has been going on for so long, and I don’t find myself looking for the truth as much as I’m refusing what has been stamped on every aspect of our lives as the only truth. What are my options? Very limited options to be honest, spending the rest of my days in the desert of doubts, mimic what  my fellow Muslims do till my life comes to an end, or ask Allah for guidance on every single day.

I envy both groups, those content with their religious life and those content without one. They seem happy or at least at peace, while I’m whirling in useless thoughts, while counting the days which pass without a resolution and without peace. Is all of this a reflection of all the battles that I ignored and all the fights that I didn’t not confront. All the “no”s that I was too worried, frightened, and embarrassed to say them, piled up and turned into a flood of doubts, maybe a punishment that I deserve. 

Ya Allah, I don’t know the right path, and the questions compete in my head, is it all about surrender, or my deeds to be accepted, obedience and worship or keeping the connection alive? I’m not in a position to find the right answer or even a bunch of answers, I’m just begging for some inner peace to help me get going. 

A meeting

I called them all and set a meeting, I insisted that it was urgent, or did I beg? Sometimes I sound pathetic or was my tone convincing. Anyway, they started to appear one after the other. I enjoyed watching them gazing at each other, no one could recognize the other, of course, I was the only one who witnessed their stupidity, failure and defeats, and I was the only one living on their pain. 

It felt chaotic in the beginning, everyone was in a hurry, restless and noisy as they have always been. Curses, shouts and objections filled my world for a few minutes before I firmly asked them to shut up. I stuttered as usual, my voice trembled with despair, yet I was able to tell them, “ please, let’s end this war”.

Sarcastically laughs, more curses and angry shouts hit me mercilessly but I repeated in a firmer tone, “ enough is enough let’s end this”. I looked around to see hatred, prejudice and fear. They were all defeated, yet they did not want to admit. Distorted versions of themselves, yet they still had the energy to be mean. The humming got louder and louder, their noise whirled around me just as in one of my nightmares. Some were starting to leave, while others engaged in silly fights, and most of them seemed to be indifferent. “No one is allowed to leave” I shouted like a lunatic, before adding, “ you know that I can destroy you all”. The humming did not stop nor the provocative sarcastic laughs, but I kept repeating “I can destroy you all, I will destroy you all”. 

Was it a moment of silence, or was it my imagination, anyway, what happened was more important, so let me try to recall. “ I didn’t best….”, “ that was the most urgent thing at that time….” “ but didn’t you want this? Weren’t you dying to do this?” “You were convinced that this is the right thing to do….” “ don’t blame me it was their fault, not mine”, “ I didn’t expect it to last that long?” Sighs and tears interrupted the genuine confessions, but at that point I was overwhelmed by what I was hearing. They kept confessing, and the more they spoke the weaker they started to feel. “You are the one to be blamed, not me”, “ I had to do so, they never liked me”, “you wanted to please them, to please him, to please her,…”, “ I thought that you were in control,….”, “ why didn’t you change the situation, why didn’t you defend me, why didn’t you fight for our rights?”, “how many years you wasted day dreaming and now you blame me?”, “ you faked everything so I just followed what you did,I ….”, “ you kept suppressing  me day and night, how would you expect me to behave?”, “ yes I begged for love, I did this to please you, don’t you remember how needy you were?…”, “you didn’t allow me to complain, sorry the pain had to find its way”, “ no,no, I wasn’t hypocritical, I just helped you to survive. You can’t be that ungrateful?”, “ they loved you! Have I ever told you this? No, now you are making things up”, “ don’t blame me for your faults, desires, weaknesses, I’m done living with your whining,….”, “you did what you believed was good, ok, you didn’t put all your effort in most of the situations but maybe you still have a chance,…”. 

Their screams became deafening as they walked towards me, their breaths were getting warm in a disgusting way, the anger filled the space. No, it wasn’t anger but every negative emotion a man had ever experienced. The crowd got close and closer, their breaths kept hitting me as the confesses were cascading from every direction. My tears were flowing as their confesses were hitting unforgettable scenes of a long life. The scares were all bleeding at the same time, and the “pain was unbearable” as I have always used to say. 

I fainted. I fainted and only god knows for how long I was away in that scary isthmus, but I retuned back. Weak and dizzy, yet I was able to recognize what they left. I was alone on the battlefield or was it the meeting place, anyway I was alone. Each of them left me a memento, either to tease me, to hurt me or to justify his sins and prove that they were all my faults. I tried to stand up, I stumbled many times, many times more than I can count, but at the end I stood still. Were they right? Were these all my sins? Am I the only one to be blamed? Do I really have the courage to destroy them all? Isn’t destroying them means one thing…. To put an end to my endless trail of failures. To end this journey of misery and to bravely stop the pain. 

In my sleepless nights....

 

In my sleepless nights, I longed for you. I missed our conversations…..no, it wasn’t the conversations that I missed, it was the hope of a new life, the promise of happiness, that unrealistic feeling of pure satisfaction. I am sad, lonely and miserable, but I knew quite well how to deceive others and distract myself. There is nothing new tonight, nothing new to be written or added to my pathetic saga, but I just need to remove all these heavy masks, turn off the background music, push away all the distractors and scream that I am lonely. Days have been passing by super quickly, my whole life seemed like a new treadmill, and I have to keep moving, I cant afford to stumble and fall. The audience is just an audience and will never jump in and help. Isn’t it a pity that I had to go through all these heartbreaks to understand that  I am destined for loneliness. Whenever I try to make things more genuine more meaningful, they burst in my face. Don’t they say “If a thing works, don’t fix it”, but for God’s sake nothing was or is working. It is either that I am discovering the core of human nature, or Im just turning into a lunatic.

I cant keep blaming my antidepressant pills, my inner child, my abrupt therapy sessions or my imagined creativity. There is something wrong, and it is not related to creativity, Im sorry to admit. Why cant I admit that being nonconfrontational has led to all this mess. Am I looking for another excuse, or did my years of trying to be an obedient religious person smudged the already shaken personality?

Luckily my dreams are amusing these days, there I meet friends, I face problems but at the end, a dream is a dream. I wish my dreams were longer. There is something wrong, I am sure that there is something wrong. I used to say “I have a big appetite for life” , but no, maybe I have a big appetite for sadness. That inner void is killing me, and I want to scream but I cant. I cant scream and I don’t have the energy. I was raised to be grateful, and to appreciate that Im in a better state than others. So I should keep oppressing my feelings, keep shushing my voice, and keep ignoring all my thoughts, just to be grateful. But at the end of the day, Am I really grateful? Can a frightened person ever be grateful.

It is that eternal feeling of fear, it paralysis me, and make me accept the endless tiny unacceptable details that form my life. No wonder that I appreciate my dreams, they are quick and they come to an end. My real life feels more like a punishment, and no matter how complicated it becomes, I have to keep being grateful. I fake happiness, I fake acceptance, I even fake ok-ness. If I ever talk about myself, I will be accused of being either self-centered or selfish, or both. Sometimes I will be accused of being immature. So, let me keep faking that everything is fine. Let me keep oppressing my fear and let me keep longing for what will never happen.

The list of my enemies is getting longer. Time does not heal, memories are merciless, and getting myself buy does not help at all. Lately, I feel that my only salvation is through a loud and blunt confession of my utter failure.  The failure of having, or even creating genuine connections. The failure of speaking up. The failure of not betraying myself day and night. If I am allowed to confess…. No it should not be a confession, it should be a scream, an endless scream that purifies my soul from decades of silence, acceptance and faking indifference. Now, what can I do? Go to bed hoping to be blessed by one of those dreams, where I am free, where I’m light and where I am capable of dealing with the situations. A few hours later I will wake up with my legendary headache, I will wade through the day and its errands with a fake smile, my stutters, and the endless distractors that I wrap around my poor self.

Is there a place in heaven for those frightened people? Some optimistic people murmur that heaven and hell, are merely “states of mind”. Ah, so I have been to hell, and I hope that Allah the merciful will let me taste the relief of Paradise, or at least to save me from hell. I need to pause for a while, think and perhaps reflect on my journey, which has been a long one. But, how would I do this? If all what I do is ignoring the obvious. I am exhausted, and whenever I pause, I distract myself. I do this, as expected, out of fear. Yes, it has always been fear that controlled me and shaped my life from the beginning. There is no need to blame anyone, it seems that this is how my story was written.

 

To the woman who will love me,

 

Hello,

I'm not sure when we will meet, but I'm certain we will meet one day. Every man is destined to meet his other half, his better half, and im waiting for that day. I'm thirsty for your love, that pure, overwhelming and crazy love. I am not referring to the romantic movies I love or the melodramatic novels I enjoy; I am just waiting for your profound feelings. Silence will be to eloquent to be disturbed by our words. Time will be our friend, and will slow its pace just for us.

My love, I am not dreaming, or maybe I am. But as years are passing by, phases are left behind, and battles have been lost, I am eager to witness the miracle of your love. We don’t need a lifetime…. What a cliché! We just need these genuine moments, when we lose ourselves in the sheer happiness of being together. They say that I am talkative, I want to quit talking and listen to you, listen to your words of love, passion and compassion. Wise people said that everything happens for a reason, so maybe every experience that I have been through was a mere preparation for your love. I assure you I am not dreaming. I don’t feel that I am lonely and I don’t sound pathetic, it is just a moment of honest vulnerability that is surprising me, but I am willing to admit that I need your love, and I believe that we will meet one day, and that my life won’t be complete unless we meet.

A few real moments, these will be enough to heal all the wounds of the past, turn my scars into beautiful tattoos, and encourage me to dream of a future that we share. The chaos engulfing me needs the mercy and magic of your love. I am confused whether I reached the apex of wisdom or the climax of my middle age crisis, either way, I can't wait to be showered by your love.

F E A R

 

In one of my dreams tonight, it seemed that I reached nirvana, a state of enlightenment or in other words, I understood the essence of life. It is all about FEAR. Yes, fear, simple, it is all about fear. It is the only constant feeling that haunts us from the very beginning to the last breath, the fear of everything, from everything and of and about everyone. Both the good achievements and the terrible failures result from fear. We worship God out of fear, we kill others out of fear! We fall in love out of fear, the fear of loneliness, one of the bitter types of fear. We develop various illnesses, again, because of fear, just think of migraines, these wicked migraines, aren’t they, how our bodies translate their fears in a primitive yet painful way?

In that dream, it all seemed clear! If at the end of the story, no matter the story was a short or a long one, everything will be lost, our possessions, our health, our memories, and the containers that we called them our bodies, everything will be lost, our beloved places and most cruelly our beloved ones. We will have vague memories of our long - sometimes boring -lives, only mirages of our realities. So, why cant we just take a breath, smile and enjoy the ride, and kick FEAR out of our lives, till it shrewdly seeps back again.

I had a good sleep, I woke up in a good mood, I enjoyed a hearty breakfast, now sipping my coffee and trying to remember that it has always been fear. I am looking forward to having another moment of enlightenment and hopefully that time I will be awake!

Move.....

 

Its time to return to real life. The story ended; the taste of your memories faded away. You have to admit that you stopped refereeing to it as your love story, I caught you thinking of it as the encounter, or even the “thing”, so lets pick up what you dropped, family, friends, work, and most importantly let us pick you up. Rise from the rubble, not like a legendary creature, just stand up as a man. An ordinary man who got his heart broken, yet he also got a clearer vision of how he should deal with his feelings. The first step is the hardest as they say, and laying down is a delicious feeling, we all know this, what can be more enjoyable than self-pity, but aren’t you done with all this whining? Aren’t you even bored? The life that Im pushing you to join is boring too, difficult and harsh but at least it is real. Real problems, real fights and real feelings. There is nothing fluffy there, no sweet melodies, no magical colors and no sheer happiness, but there is the taste of reality, which is a strong one.

You will stumble, more than once. It will be painful, you will be lonely and you will feel neglected and ignored, so what? C’est la vie. You have been in your imaginary world for so long, and its not only unhealthy but it’s pathetic. You got all your views distorted, and you wasted a hell of a time. I see you sitting in front of me as a human lump, with dead eyes and expressionless tired face, I don’t have any empathy for you. I am done with baby sitting you, I waited for a proper awakening, and you seemed unwilling to stand still, move your feet and take the first step. But now, I will push you, I will drag you if this is what I have to do.

I wish you didn’t consume all your love on that goddess that you foolishly created. I wish you left a sip of love, so that you can save yourself. You need to love yourself a bit, real and genuine love, not your naïve perception of love, but the kind of love that will make you stable. Aren’t you done by clumsiness? Madness? Romance? All these illusions, doesn’t it feel boring in your surreal world? Anyway, you don’t have to be convinced, put on the auto-pilot mode and move. Move….move….move.

A few questions

When did I idealize you? Or did I idolize you?

Was it from the very beginning, love at first sight as the teenagers say? Or was it a gradual process, in which I carried you to the highest skies while saving myself a place in the lowest hell. Maybe it all happened as we left, ooops, let me be accurate, as I was suddenly and cruelly kicked out of your life. Yes, we tend to exaggerate the value and importance of what we lose, we feel our loss, our need to them and how our lives all of a sudden seem unfamiliar and barren. I created my own goddess, whether quickly or at a rational pace, my creation was too good even for a goddess, I gave you every possible virtue, beauty, wisdom, elegance, and unfortunately, I gave you the right to ruin my life by a mere whatsapp emoji, a 21^st century goddess!

Im crazy, I know, but this is not a new thing, being irrational, unrealistic and unexpected has always been a big or even the main part of my persona. So, what is new? When will I return back to my bearable level of madness, when will I realize that you are a normal person, good or bad, great or mediocre, a person, just a person and not a goddess. You are not to be blamed, in fact you can leave this whole thing without any grain of guilt, it is a very personal conflict issue between me, myself and I. You highlighted some of my major defects, so maybe after a couple of years I will look back and thank you, and hopefully I will not curse you before reaching that level of maturity.

I am in the long and tiring process of getting back to my senses, at least my familiar level of irrationality. I have to unmake you the center of my life and must convince my subconscious that you are not welcomed in my dreams anymore. Remember when I used to say that I loved myself more in your presence, I seemed more handsome and funnier. No, I was not, maybe I was confused or deceived but I was not at ease, and being with you did not feel that safe and comfortable. I created the scenarios that would please any man, the serendipity, the bliss of love, the happiness of being together, and the profound meaning of every song. I created a beautiful romantic movie and enjoyed playing it endlessly, till you got bored, you panicked and decided to quit the whole surreal setting. The devil in me was ready to revenge, and it was me who thought of destroying. Let the cameras keep rolling, what can be better than a bitter melancholic romantic movie. Keep burning your days and nights in the temple of your wise and beautiful goddess. Blame yourself, and magnify your defects and praise her, keep praising her and enjoy your pain. Befriend your pain, unite with him, invite him to your thoughts, dreams and conversations, let this pain leave its marks on your tired features. Be gloomy, moody and edgy, aren’t you a lover who lost the love of his life? Depression suits you, right? Hate your life, belittle your own people, create detailed old scenarios when they neglected or ignored you. Remember to look up at your goddess, you love her, never forget this, love is your new identity now, you can not survive with this love, its memories and pain. Don’t lose this new identity, otherwise you will keep wading in your mundane life. Love made you a protagonist, at once you are the hero, what a change, what a luscious feeling. Would you ever return back to be one of the antagonists? Really, can you resist the glorious feeling of being finally up on the stage. Don’t your tears look majestic, your pain feels glorious and your whining sound poetic. Do you want to return back to the gossipy boring conversations, where your people complain about the traffic , prices and weather. The unadorned image of real life seems scary, right? You just need to Wake up, I cant tell you take your time, as I honestly believe that you wasted invaluable nights crying on an imaginary love story.  You really have to grow up.