Of all the paths I’ve been flying, My journey back home is always my absolute favourite. After voyages across endless skies, I lower my wings in surrender, pausing in the stillness of this moment I call life.
What an absolute blessing to have both wings to soar, and roots to anchor us to the soil of belonging. I have crossed mountains and seas, To be in this sanctuary I call peace.
At the gates, those who watered my roots wait with open arms, The people from whose flesh, blood and bones, I bloomed Their sweat, my very first steps to an endless journey their patience a testament of love, their reunion a reminder that every return is a blessing. Alhamdulillah for this reason to live.
After fifteen quiet years of growing up too fast, of carrying worlds inside your chest, of forgetting the sound of your own unfiltered laughter— Allah sent you five women like rain after a long summer, like blossoms opening on a tree you thought was done blooming.
There is the caring one, whose kindness settles around you like a garment draped on a cold morning, soft, steady, familiar.
There is the leading one, the compass of your circle, whose footsteps carve paths you didn’t know you needed.
There is the fun‑loving one, whose joy spills like rosewater, reminding you that happiness is not a luxury— it is a right.
There is the one who brings out your best, who speaks to the woman you buried under duty and years, who lifts her gently back into the light.
And then, the sweet Gen‑Z little sister, fresh as our four‑month‑old baby’s smile,who’s also part of our team proof that youth can return in the form of a friend who sees the world with new eyes and teaches you to see again.
Together, you made a simple kanjee party feel like a festival of rebirth— yummy food, glittering makeup, reels that captured your rediscovery, dancing that loosened the knots in your spirit. You dressed up like girls on the first day of college, and your heart whispered, “I remember this version of me.”
At Macedon Ranges, wrapped in floral gowns and sunlight, you picnicked like a dream you once paused and finally pressed play on. You laughed in Dana’s car until your ribs ached, made reels in Misbah’s house that still echo with mischief. That day, something inside you cracked open— a door you had closed without noticing. And through it, life rushed back in.
Then came the mappilapattu— your voices rising together, not for an audience, not for approval, but for the sheer joy of remembering who you are. Evergreen songs, evergreen souls, evergreen sisterhood.
These five women— your refuge, your softness, your laughter, your unfiltered truth— became the home you didn’t know you were missing.
And now, as you prepare to fly to India for your sister’s wedding, your heart tugs gently. You wish you could take them with you— dress up together, sing, dance, take reels, eat good food, and hold each other through the chaos and beauty of celebration. You wish they could be there to make the stress lighter, the moments brighter, the memories sweeter.
But friendship written by Allah does not fade with distance. It travels. It breathes. It waits. It holds.
So you pray:
Ya Allah, keep us as anchors for one another, in joy and in storm, in dunya and in Jannah. Let our laughter echo in gardens eternal, where no one is judged, no one is tired, and no one ever has to part.
Because after fifteen years, you found your tribe— and your heart, finally, found its place to rest.
A moment of peace beside the Yarra River — a stillness You placed in my path, Ya Allah, a breath I didn’t know I needed until it softened my chest.
Alhamdulillah for this pause in time, for this quiet corner of Flinders Street where Ikaka first brought me twelve years ago, when Melbourne was new and I was new and life was just beginning to unfold its hidden mercies.
I sit here now, in awe of how far You carried me to this blessed land — a place my teenage heart never imagined, a place my early‑grown self never dreamed she deserved.
And I remember him — the younger him, the gentler, brighter, handsomer him who held me with a softness that felt like safety. Ya Allah, I miss that version of him, and I miss the younger me who loved him with a heart still learning its own strength.
Twelve years, two beautiful children, a journey written by Your Hand — Alhamdulillah for every chapter, even the ones that ache.
I think of the last time we came here together — my parents, his parents, all of us younger, all of us unaware of how quickly life moves, how quietly it changes us.
Now I sit here feeling as though half my life has passed, yet inside me the small girl still flickers — in pieces, in echoes, in the way my heart remembers what it once longed for.
I cannot bring her back, but You, Ya Allah, have given me a young girl and a little boy with his eyes, his smile, his softness — two souls to carry forward what time has taken.
So here by the Yarra, I breathe, I remember, I surrender.
Alhamdulillah for this moment of peace, for the journey behind me, for the unknown ahead, and for every blessing You gave me before I even knew how to ask.
Yesterday, as the world kept moving, A mother stood on a roadside holding the silence where her little boy should have been breathing.
The child whom she caressed A few minutes ago, is not there anymore. She can still see him in her eyes. Alas, if she ever got it back, those worst 5 minutes. She would’ve saved him with her life..
Her arms still ache with the shape of him. Her chest still rises as if searching for the weight of his sleeping body. Her heart still calls his name into rooms that will never echo him back.
She whispers, “Ya Allah… how do I live with a womb that remembers what my hands can no longer hold?”
And the sky seems to answer with a trembling mercy: “To Allah we belong, and to Him is our return.”
But returns are not easy. Not when the return is a small pair of shoes left by the door. Not when the return is a lunchbox still packed for a tomorrow that never came. Not when the return is a mother’s heartbeat learning to beat around a wound that will never close.
She sits on the prayer mat, her tears falling like broken glass, and she tells Allah what only a mother can say: “He was a piece of my soul. A piece of my Jannah. A piece of me.”
And the angels write her grief as worship. Every tear, a dua. Every breath, a testimony of sabr. Every tremble, a bridge toward Jannah where her boy waits— laughing, running, whole, calling out, “Mamma, come. I’ve been waiting for you.”
For the Prophet ﷺ said that the child who dies will pull his mother into Paradise with a grip stronger than her sorrow.
So tonight, as she lies in a bed that feels too wide, too cold, too quiet, the heavens hold her name with tenderness.
And every mother who hears her story clutches her children closer, breathes them in deeper, and realises that love is a fragile amanah we are never promised twice.
Because the grief of the womb is the grief of a universe that once lived inside you— and then returned to the One who loved him first.
Allahumma ajirni fi musibati wa’khluf li khayran minha. O Allah, reward me in this calamity and replace it for me with something better.
Ya Allah, grant this mother sabr that is gentle, healing, and wrapped in Your mercy. Do not let her grief drown her. Do not let her heart harden. Do not let her feel alone even for a moment.
Ya Rabb, raise her child among the children of Jannah. Let him laugh beneath Your shade. Let him drink from the hands of Your Prophet ﷺ. Let him wait for his mother at the gates of Paradise with joy, not sorrow.
Ya Rahman, turn every tear she sheds into a mountain of reward. Turn her heartbreak into a bridge to Jannah. Turn her loss into a means of nearness to You.
Ya Allah, heal her in ways she cannot yet imagine. Hold her in ways no human can. And reunite her with her child in a place where grief will never exist again.
Alhamdulillah for the beauty that graces the eyes, For they remember You whenever they behold something nice. The world outside seemed wise, Yet to me, it felt like vice.
For every untouched pebble within, I blindly buried a story beneath— Unearthed, waiting to be found, Craving to sprout and rise.
The world was harsh, It fought to break my heart apart.
But alas, here I stand, With the Noor of Allah entering through the cracks— A guiding beacon in crimson red, And suddenly, the pebbles lit!
Who knew, my Lord, You were knocking To unearth the gems I hid, Those I thought were mere pebbles?
Let the sun kiss me a little longer, The dark has had its turn. Let me wait for the rains of fate, To reap and sow something great.
Alhamdulillah for the Barakah that falls from above, Watering my heart each day as I wait, Until the little seed in me blooms and thrives.
Behold your breath— For what blossoms inside Is never what you thought you’d sown.
What I sought outside Was hidden deep within my heart. If only I knew how deep to dig, How many more layers to peel, And what it craved to be nourished with— To reap and sow, To sprout and grow, To bloom and glow..
Alhamdulillah for that knock on my door, For indeed, it shook me to the core. Alhamdulillah for the darkest hours that turned cold, For they showed me Your love glowing inside, Keeping me warm. Alhamdulillah for unearthing the gems of my heart— Those that shone in the dark, Those that bloomed through Your Noor. Alhamdulillah for every untouched pebble That I found inside, For unearthing them has been The purpose of my life.
Alhamdulillah I’m head over heals in love with you, oh my dear Miqu.. Alhamdulillah Allah swt honored me with the title of your mother, oh my dear Miqu Alhamdulillah, Allah swt chose me to care for you, oh my dear Miqu..
I knew you well before I saw you oh my dear Miqu… In a couple of dreams here and there, In my deep desires of having a soulful son, Amidst the tiny little heartbeats which kept entangling with mine I see in you everyone I loved before you oh my dear Miqu.. My Kembapa, my shahin, my ikaka, my Uppa, my Vellipa..
Oh my dear Miqu, I miss you in my womb.. Where you were safe and sound And I could protect you with all my might And those cheeky little kicks, those late night somersaults, those teeny tiny heartbeats .. were my reward for the day
And As you took your first step oh my dear Miqu, I could see a peice of my heart jumping here and there And why does it hurt me more when I hear you cry or skip a feet? As I saw your first tooth oh my dear Miqu, I jumped with joy for another milestone you climbed As you cling on to me for everything, I’m proud to be your shade oh my dear Miqu… Your smiles your cuddles your love your warmth everything is my Rizq, oh my dear Miqu…
You have become my absolute favourite, oh my dear Miqu.. And I’m so proud that we completed one whole round around the sun together, And there’s many many more to go in sha Allah Oh my dear Miqu, you showed me that there’s more room in my heart than I could’ve ever imagined.. More love, more kindness, more strength, more compassion, more patience, more resilience, More of everything good I have…
Oh my dear Miqu, you showed me what I was capable of You are the coolness of our eyes, oh my dear darling Miqu You put me to sleep, you love me beyond words, You are the most purest form of Gods love, Oh my dear Miqu…
As you man up each passing year I will take my each passing day to love you more, to cuddle you more, to care for you more, To pray for you more, to embrace you more, to do everything I ever can for you to become the best version of yourself, in this world and the next, in sha Allah
Oh my dear Miqu, Here’s wishing and praying for you, That you be righteous and just, That you be kind and strong, That you be patient and calm, That you be loving and caring, That you be beneficial and purpose driven.
May Allah swt be pleased with you oh my dear Miqu, As you set sail for the next year of your life ahead, May He guide you, empower you, protect you, help you, heal you, bless you, reward you, raise you, purify you, choose you, sustain you, strengthen you, soothe you, defend you and above all, give youa long life filled with happiness, love, joy, good health, Izzath, Rizq, quality people, Aafiyah and guidance..
I can’t stop myself from writing about you.. I told myself a million times.. that you don’t like to read, that you don’t want to be disturbed, that you don’t need to know But here I’m, still writing about you With the same awe and passion since I first wrote about you..
I’m glad Allah swt has a greater place in my heart That He speaks to me everytime I miss you.. And that He lets me do this for you.. Each time I think of you, I utter my duas for you That you get shifa soon.. That you find solace soon.. That you come back to us soon, healthier, happier, handsomer..
Each time you go away from me, As your void fills my days and nights, I realise you fill up my heart and thoughts.. I get up and keep my Niyyath straight; That I’m doing this for us That I chose this heaviness in my chest For the greatest good of your shifa That Allah swt will reward me for this sacrifice; a gift of cure for you
I look around in search of you I hear your voice echoing shaabi a 100 times I look back and revisit our memories together I cry in happiness seeing our beautiful children I carefully tend to your plants, how much have your nourished them I surrender to Allah swt and explore the depth of my pain, Out of my unconditional and irrevocable love for you..
I can’t stop myself from writing about you.. I love you to the moon and back..
The voices in my head kept echoing to me and tried convincing me of the mere possibility of people swirling in and out of my life as and when they choose. It is hard to have a best friend, I realised the bitterness as I typed in some of what was going on with me today. But do I really need a friend? Well, that was questionable. As I was busying myself with my routine spring cleaning, decluttering unused items and binning expired medicines and pantry, a small voice softly but clearly told me; you don’t need anyone now, except Allah swt. And it’s because you have not had an open conversation with Him yet ever since you woke up, you are feeling this way. That you are worth nothing. Alhamdulillah you have a beautiful heart and that’s all you need, to be friends with your Creator. You don’t have to keep chasing people. And when you are actually in need of a friend, He will bring the right ones to you; each time a different one. So trust the Process, sit back and enjoy the ride; both alone and together. At all times, remember that Allah swt is always with you. Ya Allah, please help me. I have no one but You and you alone is sufficient for me. Alhamdulillah.
