Change is good! Is it? Yes!! No!! Maybe!! I Don't Know!! (Can you repeat the question?)

You're not the boss of me now,

You're not the boss of me now,

You're not the boss of me now,

And you're not so big!

You're not the boss of me now,

You're not the boss of me now,

You're not the boss of me now,

And you're not so big!

Life is unfair...

(Love Malcolm in the Middle!)

Anyway, I recently changed my job a few weeks ago. Alhamdulillah, I had been head-hunted and asked to work for an opposing company. I met with the employer over lunch and he explained to me the benefits he would give. Big pay rise, less work. Sounded good already. What was the catch? He carried on. Free iphone. Cheap phone contract. He'd buy me an outfit. In fact, two suits; so that I can look like a real professional. There was a cheap car leasing plan further down the line. Discounts on the best flights, hotels, cruises and even a monthly lunch allowance! So what would I have to sacrifice, I asked. "I know that you get 29 days holiday a year in your current job. Here, I'm only offering you 20 days holiday per year".

Sounds like a compromise.

But a compromise that I can accept. I guess this change is good. I get to work in a nice location, with a nice team and a very chilled out environment. A couple weeks into my new job, and I get a phone call from another company saying that they want me to work for them. I couldn't really speak to her as my boss was stood next to me at the time. So I took her number to give her a call back later.

Looks like the compromise I accepted has led on to much better things. And looks like the initial change initiated even more change; which was again, good.

But not all change is good.

Let me tell you a story of a potential that I am so glad I left behind.

This is a story of "Khadijah".

Khadijah was the girl that I was set up with about a year back. In fact, my brother set us up. She lived in Ireland, so she was quite a distance away. But I didn't mind that fact. We were both marriage seekers and we were both keen on the idea of getting to know each other. We had checked each others' stats, and things looked good.

Since I didn't want to waste time and money with international-rate phone calls, we arranged for her to immediately come to UK so that we could meet face-to-face and see where that takes us. Since that was the plan, I restricted all communication with her because I wanted to save it all for the real thing. I paid for her flight and arranged accommodation at my parents' house - luckily, my parents only live around the corner from me, so it made things easy in terms of communication. Unfortunately, my parents had left the country on holiday, but at least my brothers and sisters were around to meet this girl.

I picked her up from the airport and took her to a restaurant which I knew had some good food. Conversation was good - we seemed to hit it off quite well with each other.

On the drive home, we talked about a lot of things. In fact, too many things (in my opinion). She declared that she didn't want to have kids until she finished her studies. That would have been 3 years at least. A bit long for a guy my age! Then she said that she didn't want to wear a jilbab. I thought that this was quite a strange statement to make. So I briefly looked at her and said "...o....kay". She went on to say that she had seen my mother and sisters all wearing jilbab on facebook, and she felt that she was not ready to wear one (even though she wears a hijab). I was slightly confused as to why she was being so forward with everything - it was the first time we had met in real life.

So I asked her why she wouldn't wear one (out of curiosity). She said that as a medic, it would be difficult to wear one and that all the other Muslim medics would not wear a jilbab either. I started to smell something funny. Smelt like bull excrement. My sister works in a lab, yet she dons the jilbab. Also, a previous potential that my mother wanted me to hook up with was also studying in the medical department and was still able to wear a jilbab in the lab. So I told her about my sister and my previous potential. Then she changed her reason - to the fact that she was not ready to wear it yet. Ok. So why not just say that in the first place? She was putting all the cards on the table when it came to everything else (like having babies), yet she had to cover up the fact that she was not ready to wear jilbab. Was she trying to deceive me?

I then talked about how some people change quickly, while other need time. And that change is dependant on many things, such as support from family, the environment and that the individual also has to want to change; and exert some sort of effort into changing, if that is what they want to do. I decided to overlook this weird conversation and carried on talking about other things instead. But no matter how hard I tried, I could not forget about this conversation.

I brought her back to my parents' house to meet my younger sisters, but she acted really strange around them. For starters, she would not even sit with them. My sisters were young teenagers. The shyest and least-intimidating girls I know! Yet for some reason, Khadijah didn't even want to sit down with them. Instead, she just wanted to go to her room. Fair enough. I guess. She did have to fly for a whole hour or so to get to the UK! lol. So I showed Khadijah to her room and told her that she need not worry about any formalities. I told her to raid the kitchen for food if she was hungry. I told her that in the morning, she should ask my sister to prepare some sort of breakfast for her. Or just do everything herself - whichever she was more comfortable with. Her response: "I'm too shy to do that. I'm not leaving this room until you come in the morning and knock on my door".

You what??

Confusion struck. And many thoughts started flowing through my mind. Well, doesn't she have to pray? I know there's no en-suite in that room, so she has to leave. But then again, what if it is her time of the month? Ok, make 40 excuses for her and give her the benefit of the doubt. I didn't want to think too much about it, so I left her to her room and went back to my house.

I couldn't help thinking whether Khadijah was serious or not about not leaving her room until I knock on her door. So I decided to test her. I had told her that I would come back at around 8am for breakfast. But I purposely stayed in bed until around 10am. Then I called my sister to find out if Khadijah had eaten. "No", was the reply. So I asked my sister to knock on the door and ask Khadijah to come downstairs to eat. My sister replied that Khadijah was waiting for me to come first before she comes out of her room. Surely, that is weird behaviour. Please tell me if it isn't.

So I slowly made my way to my parents house. I got there and found out there was no food worthy of a good breakfast. So I decided to take her out to eat. Luckily, my local Tesco's has a nice restaurant where we can sit and talk.

We engaged in some serious conversation - including topics such as what our parents would think about us getting together, where we would live and problems and obstacles that we may see on the way. Seems like there were many problems that would get in our way.

I asked her what her parents would think of me. And what they would think about the man who is going to marry their daughter, yet cannot even speak their language. "I'm willing to do everything to convince my parents that you are the best man for me. I'm ready to convince them, I'm ready to cry."

Woah, woah, woah. What was that last bit? Ready to cry? As in, baby tantrum when she doesn't get her own way, kind of crying? Surely not. I can't expect that from someone intelligent enough to study medicine. So I said nothing and let her carry on speaking.

Then, she wanted me to move back to her homeland after her studies. Me - move to her homeland? Is she crazy? How on earth can I financially survive in a land I know nothing about? Surely we should go where the rizq lies? And since I would be the breadwinner, and I am already in a job and loving my career, wouldn't it make sense that she relocates to wherever I am working? Or is that just being insensitive?

She was happy about the idea of me uprooting and leaving my career here in the UK and starting again from scratch in her motherland. However, when I suggested the opposite - that she moves to the UK, her reaction was to break down and cry. "You want me to choose between you and my mother?", she said while crying. I didn't respond. That's because I was thinking about the previous statement she made which has been permanently scarred into my memory - the fact that she was willing to cry to get her own way. So I stood my ground (naturally). "I can't find a job in (your motherland). It's too difficult", I said. "It took me years to be where I am now - I can't just let that all go. And besides, this type of business is not as financially rewarding in (the motherland) as it is here in the UK".

I explained how the duty of the husband is to be responsible for putting food on the table, and that I was not convinced that I could make any business in her motherland. I explained that I didn't want to be supported by her, or her family. I explained that I didn't want to even think about moving to her motherland until I had secured at least a well-paid job there. While I was explaining this, I watched as she struggled to stop the tears running down her face. I know she was trying to lay on the guilt. And I totally did not appreciate this.

So we came to a compromise. I would look for work in her motherland, but before that, nothing were to happen between us.

When I finally managed to stop her from crying, I went back to my house to pick up my wallet (she paid for breakfast that morning as I had forgotten to bring my wallet). As I entered my parents' house, I saw my brother downstairs (the one who set us up) and I told him that Khadijah had been crying. He quickly asked me to bring her in so that he could cheer her up. He showed her his wedding pictures and got her to smile again.

Then Khadijah asked me to take her shopping to buy some ingredients as she wanted to cook dinner for me that evening. I obliged and took her to town. As we drove around, I was showing her my favourite places to go for a run, walk and hang out. Turns out she doesn't like sports. It makes her 'sweaty'. Looks like we actually have nothing in common.

When we got to town, we were walking around and she felt kinda peckish. Normally, I would take my friends to a nice halal place which does chicken tikka paninis. The best ones I have ever tasted. But I was starting to dislike this girl. So I started thinking of where the worst place is that I could take her. To give her a little hint. McDonald's and Burger King came to mind! Firstly, they don't have any halal stuff, apart from the fish burgers and vegetarian options. Secondly, their fish burgers and vegetarian options were disgusting! lol. So naturally, I took her to one of these fast food restaurants. I wasn't that hungry for this type of food, so I didn't order anything for me.

I thought she would be repulsed by this gesture or at least get the hint that I was not interested in impressing her any more. But she wasn't, and didn't.

When we got to the shops, I told her that I would like olives in my salad. I absolutely love olives! And you can mix pineapples in the salad as well to make an absolutely gorgeous salad, but she was having none of it! She refused to even try olives in the salad.

It was then that I realised that she refused a lot of things. She refused to compromise on a lot of things. She refused to even TRY things. So far, she has refused to have kids before she finishes her studying, refused to try to attempt wearing a jilbab, refused to leave her bedroom for breakfast, refused to relocate to the UK, refused to try certain sports, refuse to try certain foods... where will it end? She refused to change even one aspect of her life.

And at the same time, she was demanding that I change every aspect of my life. She's asked me to change my job, change my career, change my lifestyle, change my home, change my relationship with my family, change my music taste, the way I drive and even change the foods that I eat.

I thought change was supposed to be good? If it's supposed to be good, then it sure don't feel like it!

I was starting to feel very uncomfortable with her.

Later that evening, Khadijah was cooking and as she was finishing cooking, she informed me that it would be about five minutes before the curry would be done, so all I had to do was to turn off the gas. Then, she went upstairs to take a shower. My little brothers and sisters started eating as soon as the food was done which disappointingly left me and Khadijah as the only ones who had not eaten yet. Big sis came to parents' house. I had asked her to sustain the one and a half hour drive back to parents' house to help me bring Khadijah back to the airport; as at the same time, I had to pick up my parents from a different airport which was in totally the opposite direction. Oh by the way, Khadijah had refused to let my big sis take her to the airport. But this time, I forced her to accept. I called out to big sis to come join us to eat, but she either didn't hear or pretended not to hear, thinking that she was doing me a favour by leaving me to eat alone with Khadijah. (Big sis later confirmed that she did not hear me, but would have joined us at the table if she had heard us).

Dinner was very awkward. I could not think of any good conversational topics to cover. I'm normally a very talkative person. But that night, I was struggling. On top of that, the food wasn't that great either. lol. It's not as good as mum's cooking. Heck, it wasn't even as good as MY cooking! hehe. But that's minor anyway.

After dinner, I asked Khadijah what she wanted to do. She was like "ermmm....", so I suggested that she go watch X Factor with my sisters. She refused. By this time, I was tired of hearing her refuse things. I mean, X Factor is so funny to watch! Simon Cowell makes some proper snide comments and it is such a laugh! Note: I'm not angry that she is not interested in X Factor. I'm just frustrated that she won't do anything with anyone but me.

So, I had a brainwave. I would tell her that I am tired and that I wanted to sleep. That would send her to her room. And I would avoid having to converse with her about nothing. Try that - conversing about nothing, with long awkward gaps in between. It's excruciatingly painful. Only problem was that it was only about 8pm. Who the hell sleeps at 8pm? 12 years olds. Not people like me. Soulseek knows that I only sleep about 5 hours a night. Seven hours if I want to treat myself. I knew it was a long shot, but I thought I would give it a go. So I told her that I was tired and that I wanted to sleep. She became disappointed. And said that she wanted me to stay up so that we could chat.

You what??

Chat? How can you chat with someone you have nothing in common with? It's like putting an ASBO kid together with a professor and telling them that they have to converse. It wasn't happening. So I told Khadijah that I have to pick my parents up from the airport early next morning and that I should have an early night. Luckily, she bought it. She went up to her room and instructed me to come see her before I leave the next day, as she was also leaving at the same time to go back to Ireland. I agreed.

Then she pleaded with me again. "Why can't YOU take me to the airport and let your sister pick up your parents?" - a question she had asked me before. I wasn't in the mood for negotiation. "Ermm... my car is bigger than my sister's car and my parents have a lot of luggage". "So why can't your sister take your car and you take hers?". "Cos I'm not insured to drive her car". Luckily, that was true so I didn't have to lie. Sure, it's true that my car was bigger than my big sis' car, but you could have easily fit my parents and their luggage plus driver in either car. But she didn't need to know that, did she?

The next morning, I came back to my parents' house to say goodbye to Khadijah. As I walked upstairs, and past her room to go to the toilet, I heard her door open and her footsteps going downstairs. Strange, I thought, coming from a girl who didn't want to leave her room without me knocking on the door and asking for her first. I went downstairs and she was waiting for me in the hallway. I'm not really a fan of long goodbyes. So I said "Ok, cool, have a safe flight. Jazakillahu khair for flying down and meeting me here. I've gotta run now, cos I'm already late. I don't wanna keep my parents waiting".

She said "Ok, have a safe journey, inshaAllah." I stepped out and as I was closing the door, she called my name. I opened the door again and looked at her. She said "I love you".

You what???

I was dumbstruck. I had been confused about her actions/answers/comments/attitudes before, but this takes the bloody cake! A million and one thoughts shot through my head at the speed of light and after a couple seconds of deliberation (and almost choking), I responded with a quick "OK" and closed the door (after stepping out!). I stood in front of the door for what seemed like an hour while I was in complete shock at what had just happened. My parents' front door has frosted glass. So when I realised that she could still see me through the frosted glass just stood there like a lemon, I quickly composed myself and marched my way to the car. I drove off quickly, after sending a quick text to big sis telling her what just happened and gave her specific instructions to "sort Khadijah out cos she's crazy".

Once my parents were back home, mum asked me where big sis was. She knew that big sis was supposed to be around, but it was unusual for her to be out when our parents came back from holiday. I explained to mum that big sis was taking a friend to the airport. "Whose friend?", asked mum. "My friend", I replied. "Is your friend a boy or a girl?". "Girl, mum". "Ohhh... Geetar Hiro has a girl friend huh?". I could tell mum was happy. Just happy that there was a girl in my life, finally.

Later on, big sis returned from the airport. In front of EVERYONE (including mum and dad), she declares: "Maaaan! Khadijah is WELL IN LOVE WITH YOU!! You've proper pulled man!"

Dad was laying on the floor relaxing while we were all sitting on the floor scattered around the lounge (as we do), so he stuck his head up, looked at me and asked me her name. I replied. Then a flood of questions came from everyone. The only question I struggled to answer was from big sis: "is she a keeper?" I would not be telling the truth if I had said 'yes'. So I gingerly replied with an "I don't know yet".

But deep down, I knew I had already made a decision. The decision was a direct result of her personality which I was able to discover and uncover over that weekend. Khadijah was a demanding girl and she expected me to change. A lot. Yet she was not willing to change anything.

So is change good?

I've concluded that change is not good when it's only one person doing the changing. That's not to say that you should never change. I don't think anyone can say that they are exactly the same as they were a year ago. Why? Because everyone develops. And changes. But when one partner wishes change for the other, without support nor sacrifice, this is when things start to go pear-shaped. Finally, I found out that since everyone changes and develops, then why not change and develop as a couple? Surely that would be more rewarding than just one person developing.

From that conclusion, I decided to dump this girl... but wait til you hear what happens next!

Decisions, decisions...

I was engaging in one of my favourite past times (shopping!) the other day. I visited some of my favourite designers (Gucci, Armani, Dolce & Gabbana and the likes) and although their prices were waaaay out of my budget, I still like browsing and imagining myself in these outfits, or putting together an outfit from their collections.

It was a nice day out - even though I didn't actually buy anything (apart from lunch - the only thing I could afford. lol) However, I was certain that if I had this money, then the decision to purchase these beautiful clothes would be quite straightforward. That's easy - check account. Enough money? Yes. Choose size. Buy.

A more difficult decision would be to put together an outfit. Do I have jeans to match that jacket? Do I have shoes that match that belt? Will this shirt compliment my skin colour or will it not? Although I am a pro at dressing people up now, I still remember the times when I found it difficult. It's just how it is. The more you practise, the more you will become better at it.

But how do you practise looking for a wife? Or practise talking to a girl about marrying her? Or even getting to know her?

I've never come across some manual or the like to guide me through this, so I had to make it up as I went along. I'm guessing that this is how most of you feel like right now?

So I talked to the first potential, then the second, then the third, and eventually, I lost count how many girls had been brought forward to me. Now, I didn't see this as a loss, as some people would. Thomas Edison said it best: I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work. Now, I didn't get through 10,000 girls (just 9,999 lol) but with each potential, I was able to define, then redefine what I wanted in a wife - or just as importantly, adjust my personality to fit in with my dream gal.

I had been talking to this girl for several months now, and I could not believe how amazing she is. So much so, that I decided that I had to see and meet her myself. Now, she lives a few thousand miles away. But luckily, our mutual friend was getting married so I decided to attend her wedding and kill two birds with one stone, as they say.

Due to work commitments, I was only able to visit this far away land for 10 days. Ten measly days. And in those ten measly days, I felt that I had to make a decision on this girl. After all, I had invested about £1000 in total (flights, hotels, clothes, etc) to meet this girl - this was waaaay more than I had spent on any girl in my life!

But I prepared myself mentally for the worst; the worst being that either one of us didn't like each other and I would return to the UK as a single man... still looking for the girl of my dreams.

As I landed, I knew I had to make every use of every minute in that country (famous hadith: "take 5 before 5"). So after talking to her, we made arrangements to meet every day. We made our intentions clear to each other and soon enough, we were well on our way to finding out about each other.

First meeting: airport. she picked me up with her sister. drive to hotel. jetlagged. slept most of the journey. then she took me out with her sister for dinner.

Second meeting: she took me to the mosque for salat ul jumu'ah. again with her sister. lunch. sightseeing.

Third meeting: met her uncle, grandmother, aunties, cousins, mother. I wasn't wasting time. I wanted to see what her family were like.

And so on... I just let her take me places.

I ended up meeting many members of her family. And I was very pleased with how humble they were. They were all very friendly; very nice people. And the most important thing, was that I could make them laugh! So I think they had a very good impression of me! hehe! I also met some of her friends.

After about the 7th day, I was back at my hotel room, and I was pleased to find an email from my big sis asking how things were with my gal. I wrote extensively. Probably the lengthiest email I had ever written in my whole life. I detailed the things that put me off her. And I wrote down all the worries I had - that this girl may not be the best thing for me. It was a very heart-wrenching email. I totally spilled all my deepest emotions and feelings to big sis.

Next day, I received an equally lengthy reply back from big sis. She had detailed all my incorrect thoughts and emotions and showed me how Islamic people think. And do you know what big sis said in response to all the reasons I made NOT to marry this girl? She explained how these reasons were not actually reasons not to marry this girl. In fact, they were the contrary. Or they were very small tiny issues which would never ever matter in real life.

To cut a long story short, big sis made me realise how amazing this girl was. Big sis made me realise how this was a great opportunity for me, and showed me how my future marriage (inshaAllah) to this girl would be very fruitful. I love big sis. She always makes me see sense.

Not that I didn't value the enlightenment from big sis, but I still felt that I had to discuss my feelings and emotions with more than one person. Just in case I was temporarily insane... and in case big sis was temporarily insane as well. lol.

So I had the same conversation with my friend's wife back in the UK. She's actually one of my best friends - always looking for a wife for me before I met this girl; and always giving me tips on how to be a better person and giving me insight into how girls look at boys and stuff. So she knew me inside out cos I always went to her for advice on girls.

Anyway, she said the exact same thing as big sis. Just to make sure that she's not temporarily insane as well, I logged onto facebook and had a chat with more close friends of mine. Every single person was saying the same thing. Came up with the same analysis. So either everyone was temporarily insane... or this was the real deal.

Istikhara. That's the only thing left.

Man, I can't believe that I used to think that dressing someone up so that everything matches really well was difficult. That was a piece of cake compared to making a decision about your future spouse. In fact, I tried to recall all the difficult decisions I have had to make in the past. All I could think of was decisions like what time to wake up for work, which brother I should drive up to see on my day off and what I should cook for my family one day. Man... have I been blessed with easy decisions all my life or something? Is this Allah's way of following up a period of ease with a period of hardship?

Why can't the difficulty level of choosing a wife be the same as when you are choosing the colour of your decor? Or choosing which car to buy. Or which neighbourhood to live in?

I started to become frustrated again, and secretly started to envy those people who didn't have to make this decision in their life - started to envy those people who had a forced marriage. At least they didn't have to endure the torture of making such a huge decision!! More stupid ideas like this started coming, so there was nothing I could do to get rid of these ideas, other than to sleep on it.

Woke up the next day. Feeling good about everything. Confident. These past few days had stressed me out to the point that I had gotten ill. All that decision making drained me mentally and even more physically. But that morning, I was feeling a lot better. It was like the world had been lifted off my shoulders. It was like I could see a clear path out of the woods. I felt like now, I could take on the whole world.

I had made the most difficult decision in my life.

Now I had to come up with a way to tell her...

I Can't Believe I Almost Gave Up!

So the good news has finally been exposed. And yes, if you looked at my face, I'm still grinning! My colleagues at work were wondering why I'm such a happy guy nowadays, why I don't say anything when they're late coming off their lunch breaks, why we leave the workplace earlier (even though it's merely a few minutes earlier than normal, and why I'm generally smiling when I'm doing the worst bits of the job!

Alhamdulillah - that is all I can say. It is such a major relief. Eight long years of looking for a wife. Over. Finished. Now I have a new challenge, which I will talk about in future posts, inshaAllah.

However, looking back at my eight years worth of searching, I remember how I almost gave up looking for a wife. I thought that I would be destined to stay single forever. And it's not because I'm an ugly chap. Or a complete idiot. Or any other derogatory description you can come up with. No, I'm just different. And possibly picky! LOL.

So, let me share with you how I mentally prepared myself for a lifetime of being single.

About 5 years ago, I was working in a dead-end job. I had left university because mechanical engineering was just too dreary for me. And I couldn't even afford the fees anyway. Add on top of that, the travel and living costs, and you are bound to fall into a deathly spiral of debt. No way was I going to let that happen to me. So I left uni and started to work anywhere I could. I had admin jobs, customer service, warehouse work. But the one that I loved the most was retail work. Since that involved interaction with people. I love to chat to people. And I found out that when I chat to customers, they tend to buy things! So I became increasingly good at this.

Since I had left uni, and I was working in a town where there are not many Muslims, I found it difficult to meet sisters. In fact, I started to contemplate whether or not I should just try to marry a non-Muslim, then convert her. Fortunately, there were many girls in my work place who fancied the pants off me! lol! But I never acknowledged their existence because I knew deep down that Muslims and non-Muslims were incompatible. I thought long and hard about what would happen if I were to marry a non-Muslim and I (very quickly) came to the conclusion that we are waaaaaay too different to ever have a peaceful and successful marriage. Oh how the Shaytaan plays with your mind when you are weak! Looking back, I can't even believe that I had these thoughts!

So now, I had come to the conclusion that I'm never going to get a nice Muslim sister (since the girls that my mother brought forward for me were so not compatible with me). And there was no way that I would consider marrying a non-Muslim girl. So in my mind, I had hit a dead end. Maybe Allah hasn't put marriage in my rizq. How am I to know? I guess I can just try as hard as possible to get a wife.

So, I started to mentally prepare myself for a lifetime of being single. I had developed this mentality that I didn't want to be reliant on anyone - including my wife (if I were to ever get one). So, the first thing I did was to learn how to cook! I asked the ladies at work how they cook. The english ones had boring food. So I wasn't interested. lol. Luckily for me, there was one indian lady who was an excellent cook. She talked me through, step by step, what I had to do, the results that I would expect, and so on. Then I went out and bought the ingredient and had a go. I called her up as I was cooking to make sure that I was doing everything right and I ended up with a few slightly amazing dishes by the end of the evening. I was so impressed with myself that I brought it over to my parents' house for them to try.

Alhamdulillah, they were impressed with my cooking, so I offered to come round once a week to cook for the fam - and boy, do I have a large fam! Soulseek knows it!

Every week, I would get better and better, experimenting with new spices, ingredients and techniques that I picked up from my other friends. And soon enough, I knew I had nailed it when my little brother would tell my mum that he missed my cooking and asked our mum when she would cook the dish that I made! My mum tried to copy my recipe once, and my little bro was not impressed! Had I done the impossible - become a better cook than my mother??? lol! My mother and I still laugh about this incident!

So I had done it. I learnt how to cook. So in my future *single* life, I would be ok. I know how to shop for ingredients, that's easy enough - I've been doing that since I was very young. And I knew how to take care of my clothes. My mum taught me how to wash my clothes when I was still in high school. Reason being was that I was the one child in the family who had the most clothes! So I naturally became better and better. I remember spending about 20 minutes in Tesco's talking to one of their staff in the washing clothes aisle about techniques on how to get your whites whiter than ever! I was being completely anal about everything. To the point where my mum would ask me how my whites were whiter than anything she could make! And also, how my shirts were so crisp and smooth, yet the shirts she ironed for my little bro would not be so easy to get the wrinkles out.

All in all, I became so housetrained, then people who came round to visit would often think that I was married. hahaha! I even made sure that the toilet seat was always down and that the toilet roll goes over the top and not hang below - because THAT'S how it's supposed to be!

My friend's mum gave me some nice pictures of flowers to put up around the home to make it more cosy and I spent some serious money on making my lounge the ultimate bachelor's pad!!

Not that I'm bragging or anything, but I bought a projector and a 100" electronic controlled screen which comes down from the ceiling via radio control and soon enough, my house because the centre for all the boys to come down and chill out or to read Qur'an or have study circles and stuff. It was totally male-orientated though, even though I sprayed lavender febreeze once in a while to give it that whiff of feminism!

But as I sat there with all my gadgets and décor, part of me wanted to say "yeah, I don't need a wife", while the other part of me kept saying "you're still missing one half of your deen - how can you concentrate on the other part of your deen without first fulfilling this half (with a wife)?".

That's when I realised that these God-given instincts of procreation will lead to ultimate discomfort when they are suppressed and not fulfilled in the way that Islam taught us.

All these thoughts kept flooding back to me - what was I thinking before? That I could live without a wife forever? Was I crazy?? I think I was! Whenever I saw my friends who were married, it made me slightly jealous - they had companionship and it was something that I longed for before. And it's something that I have a new-found appreciation for now.

No way, I knew I couldn't give up on searching for a wife. I had to up the ante on my search. Start thinking outside of the box on how to get a wife. Start going places where I could meet people. Spread the word to everyone and get them to help me.

But the biggest thing I learned? Don't put all your eggs in one basket. Don't rely on just one person to find you someone. You've gotta pull all the stops. Ask for favours. Reconnect with your old friends and ask them to help you find a partner. I started to make friends with the wives of my friends. I started to let them see how much of a good character I was so that when they speak to their friends, they would remember me whenever a single girl's name would pop up in conversation.

And this is how I managed to get into contact with my fiancée. She is a friend of a friend of a friend.

Don't give up. Your soul mate is there, somewhere, inshaAllah. It may seem easy to give up, but why give up when the rewards of getting married are so sweet? And when the hikmah behind marriage is so great? And when the challenges after marriage develops you to such a great degree that it prepares you for death more than any other action?

In a way, I am glad that I learnt how to cook and clean. Not because I plan to be a house-husband in future, but my fiancée was seriously impressed with the fact that I can cook, clean, iron and am good with children! In my quest to become single and independent, I became adorable in the eyes of my fiancée. Yay! In fact, she kept telling everyone how I loved to cook!

So boys, I recommend that you do the same. You have nothing to lose, but everything to gain. Skills don't come easily. But if you start now, your skills will, inshaAllah, improve and your passion for these skills will be turn-ons for your future wife rather than turn-offs! What do you think, sisters? Do you agree?

Fight or Flight

I started writing this during the time I was looking for a wife, but never posted it because I couldn't finish writing it before I got engaged. Anyway, here it is!

---

In psychology, the term fight or flight is used to explain the biological responses our body makes in reaction to a threat - to either prime the body for fighting or to prime the body for fleeing.

Am I weird to say I experience the fight or flight response whenever I approach a girl to seriously talk about marriage? How hard should I fight to get a girl? Should I have an attitude where fighting to get a girl equals hassle... hassle that I could, frankly, live without?

These are all questions that I had to ask myself when I was looking for a wife. In the start of my search, I didn't think much of it. I thought that a girl would suddenly fall in my lap (not literally! lol) and we would fall in love and get married and live happily ever after. Getting married shouldn't be hard - being married is the difficult bit... right?

Wrong.

Rewards are always sweeter when you have fought a long, hard battle to get what you were aiming for. The amount of appreciation that you will have for something that you worked hard to achieve would naturally be much greater than if it were given to you on a silver platter.

Let me explain, by rewinding a couple decades ago...

When I was a young boy, my parents never gave me any pocket money. Didn't buy me many things, didn't get any birthday presents... didn't really get many material possessions. I used to envy my school mates who would get £5 a week for doing nothing. They'd all have cool games consoles, when I had a tennis ball. They went to the corner shop after school and bought sweets. I had no money to buy anything, so I just went home. The only time I got money was when it was Eid, or when I worked for it. And here was the standard list of jobs available to get money:

Wash the car inside and out: 50p

Clean all the downstairs windows on the inside: 20p

Clean all the downstairs windows on the outside: 20p

Clean all the downstairs windows on the inside: 20p

Vacuum one room: 5p

Clean my room: no money, cos i'm expected to do it anyway!

There was a time when I used to get 5p for each prayer I completed

Sometimes, I would get 5p for practicing reading the muqaddam (a book to familiarise myself with the arabic text and to learn how to read the Qur'an)

Washing the dishes: 5p

And so on...

And I remember when my siblings and I had worked really hard and we had all saved up lots of money (approx £2 each or so), so we would all go down to the local shop and buy multi-packs of crisps and chocolates and share it amongst ourselves.

MashaAllah, my mum taught us the value of money, and taught us how to spend that money in a nice way - by sharing it with others.

So I grew up really cherishing everything I had - even though I didn't really own that many things. Whatever I had for lunch, I would eat everything, even though I didn't like it sometimes (and as I was a slow eater, I would usually be one of the last kids to leave the lunch hall). I would see others throw away the food they didn't want to finish, just because they didn't like it.

I always compared myself to my classmates and I could never understand their rationale behind their actions. For example, whenever I had a bottle of drink, I would save the bottle and reuse it the next day. But I would see my classmates do stupid stuff like bite the bottom of the bottle and drink through the little hole they made with their teeth! What a waste of a perfectly good bottle! Obviously, they had to throw away the bottle after that since there was no way you could use it again. But I remember thinking "how can they not appreciate these things that they have been given?"

Simple answer: spoilt children. They've been given everything they asked for without having to lift a finger. They never did any chores. They never learnt to appreciate what they had and what they worked for. So they had no care for their actions and no love for their belongings. Whereas I had to struggle to get the tiniest bit of monetary reward.

Let's move forward in time back to the recent past...

I was sitting with my brothers and sisters celebrating Eid when the discussion came up about me choosing a wife. Big sis asked me if I wanted to fight for the girl of my dreams. My natural answer: "no, it should be simple - I don't wanna fight. If it's meant to be, it'll happen". My brother shot up and said, "nah, you never want to fight for your things. You just expect things to happen around you. That ain't reality. You're living in a dreamworld". My sis then proclaimed, "yeah *Hiro*, you should show that you're at least fighting to get a girl, otherwise, it would seem like you don't even want her"

That short conversation had such a profound effect on me. Could it be that I've lost all the values I used to hold as a child? What happened to the concept that I should work hard to get what I wanted? Had this dark dreary world corrupted me to the point where I have forgotten my mother's teachings?

As you can imagine, I didn't say much for the rest of that conversation. I was in deep thought for the whole evening. Maybe I should fight to get the girl of my dreams. Instead of just wandering aimlessly, waiting for her to fall into my lap. I mean... who do I think I am? Shahrukh Khan in some Bollywood movie? Things don't just happen like that in real life.

I decided on two things that night. Firstly, to cut down on the movies. Secondly, to adopt a new way of thinking when seeking a suitable partner in marriage.

This new way of thinking included many things. For starters, I'm not going to run away from the smallest problem I had with the next potential wife. I remember rejecting girls just because they had studied medicine and some twisted logic in my mind had made up the idea that because she was studying medicine, she probably wanted to make a career out of it, therefore, didn't want to have children. So I rejected her without even talking to her! I had rejected girls because they were from a different culture to me. Even though, we were both born in the UK and had grown up here all our lives. I had rejected girls I had never even met before because they were older than me. Or they lived in another country. Or were too short. Or knew my sister. Or she never used to wear hijab. Once, I even rejected a girl because she had the same name as my sister (but that is quite freaky for obvious reasons!). The point is, I kept choosing the option of 'flight' every time I saw a small threat that might materialise in the future.

What a moron I was. And I wanted to change. I had realised my mistake in all of this and I had decided that now is not the time for 'flight' every time a small minor negative thing gets in the way.

It's. time. to. fight.

Nobody is perfect; so I can't expect my future wife to have no flaws whatsoever. Which means that I can't expect an easy ride to get the girl of my dreams... right? In fact, I now believe that if we don't struggle to find 'the one', then it might come back and haunt you later in the future. Maybe through not appreciating the one you are supposed to love. Maybe that might lead to your future spouse reciprocating that feeling. Maybe that might lead you to fall out of love. Maybe that might lead you to end up in divorce. Now that's a scary thought.

I now hold the opinion that you have to expect to fight for the girl of your dreams. Sitting down and waiting for her to come to you is not an option. After all a marriage-seeker should seek. Not be sought. Cos then, you would be a marriage-soughter. And that don't even make sense.

So let me go back to my original hypothesis: "getting married shouldn't be hard". Maybe I should change the 'getting married' part of that hypothesis to something more appropriate like 'choosing a colour to paint your wall... shouldn't be hard'. That would be more fitting. Getting married is the hard part. That's where you lay down the foundations of your union. It's where you learn to appreciate each other and each other's roles in each other's lives. It's where you have to make a decision whether you think you can spend the rest of your life with that person or not. You have to consider the relationship that your future spouse will have with your family, if your future spouse is planning on moving in with your family. You have to figure out whether or not you both have the same direction in life; after all, one of you may be an extrovert personality, while the other may be introvert. And if one of you have to relocate after marriage, then what are the logistics of that happening?

Most importantly, you have to mentally prepare yourself for marriage. And that doesn't mean looking in the mirror and saying "I want to get married". Noooo. It means that you have to be at a pretty mature stage of your life, where you are confident that you can resolve problems. That you can foresee problems and eradicate them before they exist. And have the knowledge that sometimes, your wife just wants to talk (sometimes scream). And you have to listen - even though you really wanna just watch tv. lol.

All this requires a lot of thought. And a constant battle with yourself ensues. 'Can I live with that part of his/her personality? Would he/she be upset with my direction in life? Would I get support from him/her whenever I want to do something?'

If any of you have felt the same as me, please share it with us. A problem shared, is a problem halved.

I’m Crushin’ on you!!

Throughout my life, I have had many crushes on girls. Usually, girls who i regularly see, or work with, or go to school/college/uni with. Crushes developed on girls like Charlize Theron, Beyonce and Jennifer Love-Hewitt don’t count. That’s just too superficial.

But when discussing these crushes with other brothers (cos that’s what we do over sheesha, apparently) we always come up with the same answer; that these girls are not marriage material. Oh this reminds me of a game we used to play when we were immature: “sex, marry or kill?”. Highly obvious rules to the game – name a girl, and the other has to declare whether they would have sex with, marry, or kill that girl. Lol. What a stupid game.

Anyway, that game has no relevance to my post. So let me get back to my point.

Where was I? Oh yes, these girls are not marriage material. As I explained in a previous post, I have always lived in remote areas, where there are no masaajid, no halal butchers, and most certainly barely any Muslims. So naturally, I was not seriously interested in any of these local girls.

When I started college, I was amazed to firstly see so many Muslim girls, but to also see that so many Muslim girls don’t cover up or abide by Islamic morals kinda struck me.

When I started uni, I was even more amazed that there were so many sisters in uni, and that they covered up well, but was shocked that a lot of them were kinda flirty. I guess at least they are studying hard and not wasting their life away.

In fact, I remember sitting in a brother’s apartment and explaining to him why, of all the girls that were in uni, I had not started chasing any of them (in all Islamic manners, obviously). It was then, that I made the realisation that all good Islamic girls hide.

I am even more confused, after many of my friends started to get married, and after meeting their respective wives, discovered that they were all very decent women. Even the ones who didn’t wear hijab. Where have all the good women gone??! They are either married or in hiding!!

Guys like me have no chance then!

I started to lose hope due to these ideas, until i met these two sisters. Their real identities shall be hidden, so we shall call them Abidah and Anisah (these names rhyme, just like their real ones!)

Anyway, I met these lovely young ladies at work. They happen to visit my store all the time and I still remember the first time they graced the store with their visit.

Abidah walked in and all I could do was to stop and stare. A few moments later, I realised what I was doing and turned away. But found myself approaching her to greet her with the Islamic greeting of ‘Assalamualaikum’. Instantly, she responded, then explained to me what she was looking for. I went to the stockroom to look for it and came back to tell her we didn’t stock it.

“Sorry, sister. We don’t have it”, I told her. She gave me a confused look, then said “ok, then” and walked away. I was quite struck by that response, so I decided to forget about it by checking up on my staff. A few moments passed, and Abidah approached me again telling me “thanks for looking for me; you told my twin sister though, so she got a bit confused!”

I was dumbfounded! “There’s two of you?” I exclaimed!

“Yes, there she is, we are wearing different coloured hijabs!” and she pointed.

I looked across and started waving like a bafoon. Way to make a first impression, Geetar Hiro! Nevertheless, she must’ve thought it was funny, cos they both laughed.

They both continued visiting my store once every while – and on one instance, I actually managed to get Abidah’s number! Success? Not quite. She gave me that number because she was waiting for a particular item to be in stock; ie, she gave me her number on professional terms. Now, if I were to abuse that professional customer relationship by calling her up on personal terms, surely that would violate some sort of company regulation? So I used to just call her purely on professional terms.

That is, until mid-Ramadhan! They both came in and by this time, I found myself crushing on Abidah. So every time they came in, I found myself talking mainly to Abidah, while Anisah just walked around browsing.

Anyway, Abidah and Anisah came to my store during Ramadhan, and it was obvious they were not shopping. Instead, when they came into the store, they walked around until they found me and naturally, we started chatting. Just generally, about Ramadhan and how easy it was this year.

Then Anisah dropped a bombshell on me. She told me that Abidah and her would be going back home to celebrate Eid... because “here, we have nobody”.

Did you hear that?? ‘Nobody’, which blatantly means that they are not married! They’re going back home to see the rest of their family, ie their siblings and parents! They are not here with their husbands! They’re not here with their boyfriends! They’re here on their own! I’m sorry to be excited about how sad and alone they were, but that kinda works in my favour! Lol!

So I spent the next couple days devising a way to subtly let Abidah know that I am interested in her. After hours and hours of thinking how to approach this issue (you guessed it, I’m not good with things like this), I finally settled on sending her a text to invite her and her sister to my parents’ open house Eid party. Many of my friends and their wives were coming, my sisters would be there, and many of my parents’ friends on top of that. In fact, most people come to my parents’ open house invitations because they want to meet other families. It was the perfect venue – purely neutral.

Now, I secretly knew that they may not even be able to make it because they told me they were going to go back home for Eid, but I forgot to ask them when they will be back (I guess subconsciously, I didn’t want to pry too much into their lives). However, my parents’ open house Eid party would be exactly one week after Eid.

I made sure the delivery report on my phone was turned on when I sent the texts. Abidah’s text got through, but for some reason, Anisah’s delivery report came back with “sending failed”. No biggie. One out of two ain’t bad!

Hands started sweating, but after some thought, she can either reply or ignore. Here’s me hoping it’s the former rather than the latter!

--

Bad news... I write this update a week after the Eid party is over, and still no reply back from my text. Looks like Abidah chose the latter rather than the former.

Oh well.

The search continues...

But my earlier theory that good islamic girls hide (or at least are too shy to put themselves in the limelight) still holds true until someone proves me otherwise...

Tying Your Camel – Part II

While my little sister was in college, she had this extremely good looking friend who was quite Islamic, apart from one thing. This girl didn’t wear a scarf properly – it would not cover her neck; just her hair. So I had mixed feelings on this one, back then. I can’t say that I wasn’t attracted to her, but the fact that she didn’t wear a hijab properly kinda put me off at the same time. I had only just started uni as well, so I was skint as anything. I knew I couldn’t afford to marry or to settle down with someone. So I didn’t think too much of marriage; nor her. Nevertheless, I still have a story to tell. From this point forward, we shall refer to this girl as Aisha.

Several years later, my mother suggested that I speak to Aisha regarding marriage (Aisha’s family were distant family friends of ours). I politely refused, since I remembered that she didn’t wear hijab properly. I didn’t want to lower my standards. And besides, I had not seen Aisha for several years either. The conversation ended.

A few days later, I was out walking with my friend, and I was telling him about Aisha back in college and how my mother was now so intent on getting me married to this girl, and about how funny this whole situation was. At that very moment in time, I noticed this stunning looking girl walking towards me. Dressed like an angel, covered from top to toe, gliding majestically towards me in full grace. My feet froze as she came closer and my eyes were fixated on her face, trying to figure out who this girl was. She looked familiar. She looked up. Avoiding eye contact with everyone and carried on walking.

That’s when I realised this girl was Aisha.

I waited for her to pass and get a distance away before I turned to my friend and asked him “did you see that girl? That was Aisha!!”. My friend looked back and said “wow, she’s pretty”. Hell, yeah!!

I immediately called my mother to tell her I had just walked past Aisha and declared that the only reason why I didn’t want to pursue her before (due to her not wearing hijab properly) was now void. And that she would make a perfect wife. Not that I have actually had a conversation with Aisha to know that. Lol.

My mother said that she would make some calls and see what happens.

Needless to say, I was sleepless that night. Ecstatic.

Turns out that my mother couldn’t contact the family straight away. It took a couple weeks to find out their phone number and by that time, they were away on holiday or something. So Aisha was pushed to the back of my mind so that I could concentrate on other important things going on in my life.

A couple months passed and my mother finally spoke to Aisha’s mother, who gave my mother Aisha’s email address. This was passed on to me, but the problem was I didn’t know what to write to her. She probably doesn’t even remember me. Or what I look like. And it certainly doesn’t help that we have never spoken to each other. The most interaction we had was when I was chairing an event in uni and she was one of the attendees. So every draft email sounded weird. After much procrastination, I decided to send the following message:

“Assalamualaikum,

I hope you are well...

My mother gave me your email address a few weeks back.

Just wanted to make sure that I read it correctly”

I put my name at the bottom and pressed “send”. Immediately afterwards, I realised that if someone had sent me this email, I would ignore it. So I figured that I’ve probably lost my only chance with this girl and didn’t think much more of her or the situation.

Several months passed and (yep, you guessed it), I couldn’t stop thinking about Aisha. I kept picturing her face, how she walked, how she dressed, how she moved...

So I decided to tie my camel.

I know which mosque her father goes to on Fridays. Not my usual mosque, but also not very far from where I attend either. I am now on a mission. And I shall name this mission “operation target dad”; since I believe that the parents can make or break the relationship. Once I get him on my side, then I’m sure Aisha’s mother will be on my side as well. Then once the parents are ok with me, then surely, it would influence Aisha’s opinion of me for the better... right? Or would she think that I’m just a geek?? I don’t know. But the level of not knowing would be much greater if I didn’t act. At least, if I tried and she didn’t like me, then I would have some sort of closure. Then I can work to get over it and move on.

I found her father at the mosque. I gave my salam and sparked up a conversation with him. He started to ask me questions regarding my background – my work, where I live, etc. After my replies, his eyes sparkled. “Ohh, are you so-and-so’s son?”, he asked. Then my eyes sparkled. “Yes, yes I am!”, I replied. Luckily for me, my father has a good reputation in the community. Then we talked about how he had met my dad on several occasions, and even came to my parents’ house as well. Unluckily, I had not been there when ‘possible future father-in-law (Insha’Allah!)’ had brought his family over.

Subsequent weeks followed and conversations grew. That’s good. I could show my Islamic personality. Hopefully, when he thinks of marriage for his daughter, he will think of me as the most suitable man! Or maybe I need to grow a pair and just ask him the big question. Why the hell am I so shy when it comes to things like this?? I could easily talk to the girls I meet at work. Even real pretty ones. The pretty ones that make some guys stutter when they talk. So I’m definitely not shy. In fact, when I was thinking of a personal description for my online matrimonial advert, I was asking big sis for feedback – I told her I had described myself as ‘shy’. Big sis laughed down the phone. Then she made me change it.

So I’m definitely not a shy guy.

But I had cold feet every time I come near this topic of marriage. Oh! I just had a thought. Is my heart not in sync with my mind? Does my heart long for love, while my mind tells me I’m not ready?

Stop. I’m going off on a tangent again.

These thoughts will just drag me down. I want marriage. I need to do this. I need to bring up the conversation of marriage. Or maybe I can just bring my dad to the mosque and let him do all the work. Haha. I like the sound of that. Ok, now that the plan is set, I just need to execute the plan. Oh man. Cold feet again. Ok, baby steps. That’s how I developed my staff into the great people they are now. It’s how I taught myself how to do things like drive quickly, read Qur’an fluently, or read music with ease. Baby steps gradually increase your confidence until you come to the point where you can achieve anything.

So first baby step – to gain confidence – is to respond to the numerous messages (yay!) I got from the matrimonial website and see where that takes me. Apparently, the more often I log into the website, the more prominent my profile becomes.

In fact, I went all out. I felt like a playa! Haha! With several girls on the go. Shame they turned out to be non-serious people.

Except for one... :)

Hmmm... who would’ve thought that tying your camel actually works out?

=)

Tying your camel

One day Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) noticed a Bedouin leaving his camel without tying it and he asked the Bedouin, "Why don't you tie down your camel?" The Bedouin answered, "I put my trust in Allah." The Prophet then said, "Tie your camel first, then put your trust in Allah" (At-Tirmidhi). 

this hadith teaches us to prepare as much as we can before we leave to the will of Allah (swt). only then, can we really be excused from any blame if anything goes wrong. i love this hadith – it has such a profound meaning to it. and the impact it has made on my life is immense. or so i thought. let me explain what i mean...

once upon a friday, a brother asked me if i would be attending the local mosque for friday prayer. “of course”, i replied. i asked him to meet me at my workplace at 12:50pm latest so that we could set off by 1pm. we both live about 15 miles from the nearest mosque and my routine at work was to take a 2 hour lunch break to be able to fulfil this obligation. that’s enough time to drive at a comfortable, safe speed for half an hour to the mosque, catch the sermon and prayer, mingle with the brothers at the mosque, then another half hour drive back to my workplace after having lunch.

at 12:50pm, i went up to my office and noticed that i had a missed call from the brother. i immediately called him back, expecting him to say that he was waiting for me outside. but instead, he told me that he wasn’t able to make it, as he had only just gotten ready and was not able to do the 20 minute walk down to my workplace in time to set off by 1pm. i told him to stop being a joke and start running. now.

i fled my workplace like a bat out of hell and made the half mile run to my car. then, i sped off towards his house in my risky attempt at being the hero of the day.

anger started to fill my mind – as i hate rushing while driving. and the fact that i was rushing because i might miss friday prayer made it worse. in fact, several things were going through my mind – why am i risking missing my obligatory friday prayer for this person, when he can’t be bothered to make sure that he is ready by a particular time? any other person i know would have said “forget it” and left him. 

but i have superpowers. soulseek can confirm the fact that with my driving abilities, i am able to cut a normal journey time by 33%.

so i used my abilities to the max and raced to the brother’s house and then onwards to the mosque.

as soon as he entered the car, my anger evaporated and instead, it turned into concern. why would anyone have such a laissez-faire attitude to such an important obligation? surely, if you know that in order to fulfil the obligation of friday prayer, you need to catch a lift with someone (and let’s say, for example, that this was the only way to get to the mosque), then surely, you should make sure that you are ready for that lift, right? and to make sure you are ready for the lift, then surely, you must be ready on time. and to be ready on time, you need to make sure that you have everything to need to be ready. surely that’s the train of thought that one should possess, should one wish to fulfil one’s obligations? right? or am i talking gibberish?

and if you are running late, then cut down on the non-obligatory things. And. Do. Things. Faster.

i didn’t want to be the one to let this brother think that he can get away with not going to the mosque. that’s being irresponsible to the brother and his welfare. after all, i’ve heard that if a muslim man misses friday prayer 3 times in a row, then you have to re-take your shahadah. so as you can see, the severity of missing friday prayers is not to be taken lightly.

we then continued to have a conversation regarding the hadith i quoted in the beginning and i was explaining to him how if we don’t understand this hadith, then we would never take things so seriously. and as a result, we would be held accountable, since we did not do everything that was in our control to prevent the worst from happening.

that’s why i always leave slightly earlier to go to the mosque. and why i usually go to the mosque which has the earliest congregation – so that if i am late, i can attend a different mosque. that’s why i learned how to drive fast and cleverly avoid traffic jams. that’s why i learned which actions are obligations and which actions are recommended – so that if it were imperative that i be somewhere at a certain time, i would only complete the obligations and leave the recommended. that’s why i make sure my car is in tip top condition, ready for friday. that’s why i make sure i’m wearing my contacts on friday (i don’t wear them every day). that’s why i make wudhu at work before i’m about to set off. in fact, it’s why i do a lot of things.

after speaking so passionately on the subject for the entire 20 minute journey to the mosque (33% driving time reduced), i came to the conclusion that i had not at all implemented this hadith while looking for a wife.

so what had i expected? that she just appears and happens to be the one? that i bump into a sister at the supermarket and suddenly start talking to her then end up marrying her? that some sister will just approach me and ask me to marry her? i think i’ve been watching way too much bollywood.

fact is, when i used to tell people that i was looking for a wife, i would just TELL people. but would never ask for leads, never go out there to try and impress people, never talked to the elders; who were usually the key or barrier to marriage depending on how you look at it! never took any action to get what i wanted. just made du’a. and thought that would be enough.

bottom line is, i expected marriage to come to me when i was ready. i don’t know why. but looking at it now, i realise that if i want to get married, surely i have to take certain steps and do certain things to TRY to get married. i mean, i am ready for marriage, but it hasn’t come to me yet. We all know that success is from Allah (swt) and that He (swt) shall give it to you when He (swt) so wishes. it’s like an exam... you can’t expect to pass if you haven’t even studied the subject, no matter how many du’a (supplications) were made for you to pass. no; when we want something, we ask Allah (swt) for it, then we work our hardest to try and get it. and Allah (swt) will decide when and if He (swt) gives it to us.

which means i have to work hard to get married.

that’s not a scary statement.

actually, i take it back. It’s... slightly scary.

it’s time to tie my camel up.

that sounds better.

and now things are clear. I need to tie my camel before i leave it. I’ve got to do everything in my power to make sure i get married.

Now how do i do that???

Rejected

i remember applying for jobs during my teen years. i needed to save up money for college and eventually university. so i went around town handing in my cv to any half-decent place i could find. i must've handed out about 20 cv's. and received only one call back. the lady asked me to come in for an interview and i was most certainly excited! my first real job! when i went in for the interview, the lady just sat me down in her office and discussed the wage, hours and benefits. then asked me when i could start. SCORE! that didn't take much effort. i was frankly, quite pleased with myself.

a couple months later, a different company called my house. my sister delivered the message to me: "if you still want a job, call me back". i was ecstatic. i called back and was asked to come in for an interview. so i went in and the boss asked me when i could start. i quickly handed in my notice to my current employer and started my work in my new job.

i left this company after a while because i wanted to concentrate on my studies. but a year or so later, i found myself in financial difficulty yet again. so i posted my cv around again. this time, i gave it to many more companies. a couple of days later, i received a call from one of the companies. the lady asked me if i was still looking and i replied "YES!". she asked me to start the next day. no interview.

since then, i have been promoted a couple times, without interview, alhamdulillah.

now, i will put this story on pause and start another story. but keep this first story in the back of your mind.

recently, i had signed up to a muslim matrimonial website. it was the first time i had done anything like this, so as you can imagine, i was extremely nervous. nevertheless, in my eagarly competitive stride, i set about writing my profile. i hadn't done anything like this before. and had no idea where to start. i could feel my heart beating fast. palms were sweaty. over what?? a little description about myself? surely it's like writing a cv, right? wrong. a LOT more people would be reading it. and they will be extremely critical and shrewd. since they would potentially be spending the rest of their life with me.

after spending an hour writing, then re-writing, i deleted what i had got and decided to start again. i didn't like what i had written about myself. it made me sound like a geek. haha.

then a brilliant idea came to me. the idea was that i was looking at this in totally the wrong angle. surely, this is a competition. now, i understand business and competition. i've got to look at who i am trying to target and make sure that i have what they want (translation: see what girls are after and make sure i have it). then i have to look at my competition and make sure that i am better than them so that i have a better chance of success (translation: check out the boys' profiles and make sure i am better in whatever way is possible - while telling the truth, obviously)

i felt like i was cheating the system. but in the world of business, i've learnt that you have to be tough against the competition!

so after looking at what girls were after (and making sure i put that in my profile if i could offer it) and looking at what the boys have to offer (and making sure i put that in my profile if i could offer it), i managed to compile a profile of myself which i was happy with.

i posted it. then i sat, watching the computer screen for several minutes. nothing happened. obviously. maybe there wasn't anyone online on that particular website. maybe my profile was rubbish. self doubt. anxiety. uneasiness overwhelmed me. i decided to check my profile out, just to make sure it was on the website. it was. after a couple minutes, i realised i couldn't expect people to just start messaging me straight away. that's a dream world. you see that kind of stuff in movies. surely that doesn't happen in real life. what an idiot i am!

then i realised, that since i am a man, i should kinda make the first move (that's how it goes, right?). so i scrolled through the profiles and picked one that i liked. this girl seemed like the girl of my dreams. i started to picture what she looked like, what she did in her spare time, where she lived and what she has done with herself... then i sent an automated message to say that i was interested.

i switched off my laptop and started to get ready for work. when i was ready, my phone beeped to tell me i had an email. i checked it out - and it was from that matrimonial website!! someone was trying to contact me. i quickly ran to my laptop in all excitement, and followed the link from my email to this website. i logged in. and it was a rejection message.

my heart sank. i'm not good enough, i thought to myself. i switched my laptop in anger and went to work. hopefully, work will take my mind off this whole ordeal.

now to link the two stories together.

for every job that i had gotten in my life, i had never been interviewed. each employer just rang me (through recommendation or otherwise) and just offered me a position. in some people's eyes, it would seem like i have an easy life. but what happens to a sportsman who never fails throughout his early career, then suffers a blow in later life? people start to say that this sportsman has lost his edge. that his career is ending. that he should give up while he has some reputation left. or even that he should have given up before his last competition.

that's how i felt. this feeling of defeat was instilled in my heart for what seemed like an eternity when i read the message that was sent back to me saying that she does "not wish to correspond further". i went to work straight away and i couldn't get my mind off that message. i replayed it over and over again in my mind and felt those crude emotions come back to me over and over again.

i had failed to get what i wanted. and it's not the kind of emotion that i would feel when i failed to convince my mother at the supermarket that i needed that chocolate bar when i was younger.

i started to analyse this whole situation and tried to figure out where i went wrong. was it my profile? was the girl not serious? maybe i'm not what she was looking for? maybe Allah (swt) is protecting me from a harm in the future which i cannot see? is it because i hadn't uploaded a picture on my profile?

i started to think about how i had gotten my jobs with so much ease, but failed to get a wife so easily. then i had an emotion which i had no felt before - i started to become slightly jealous of my friends who had applied for jobs and been rejected. i saw them bounce back up after receiving rejection letter after rejection letter after rejection letter. and i thought "how do they do that?"

since they had been rejected sometime in their career, it wasn't anything new if they were rejected for a position later on in their career. why? because they would often look at the possibilities that opened up for them through a rejection. my friends used to call up the employed/interviewer and ask them for feedback - ask them where they could improve themselves. and their tips worked. so rejection wasn't so much of a shock to them - they just dealt with it and moved on to bigger and better things.

in my position, however, it's not like i can email back the girl who rejected me and ask her how i can become a better man for her. that would be weird.

i decided that i should follow in the footsteps of my friends - time for positive thinking now. yes, i have been rejected. but so what. i need to learn how to handle a rejection. i've learnt that not everything falls in my lap. marriage is something that i have to work hard to get. the rewards are sweet - so the incentive is definately there. and there will definately be a hiccup or two on the way to the finish line.

so the next time i get rejected, i will take that as a positive. it would give me an opportunity to reflect. to improve. and i will be one step closer to marriage.

i got home that evening and immediately went back to my profile and made a few tweaks. i was determined not to fail. not in the first hurdle. and this is what i realised. first... hurdle. there are many hurdles that we have to jump over to get what we want. and we have to fail in the process. otherwise, the appreciation of whoever you have next to you is somwhat muted.

Geetar Hiro joins the cause

I'd like welcome Geetar Hiro to the wonderful world of blogging.

My long time brother from another mother is joining me on the search!

This means more content for you guys :)

Allahu Akbar!