From MuslimMatters:

JOIN Facebook Group for Action-Gaza. DIGG this post.

Bismillah, before continuing, please check all pessimism and hopelessness at the gate, otherwise do not read any further. Feel free to use this post, in entirety, and circulate as much as possible. Copyright rules are waived for it.

FAMILIARIZE : Familiarize yourself with the Gaza situation if you are not already up to speed. You can read MM’s complete coverage by clicking here.

We have compiled a list of action-items (many from readers’ comments) into one list that, inshaAllah, will empower us all. We have all read enough about Gaza to know the grave situation that our brethren find themselves in. Now, it’s time to do something. This is OUR 60-90 minutes action-guide that WE should go through at least once. Repeat one or more of the actions as often as you are able to. Do as much as you can, whenever you can. NO ACTION IS INSIGNIFICANT.

Once you are done taking ANY or all actions, come back and add a comment to record your small contribution(s), but with great reward towards OUR cause. The purpose of checking back in is to encourage others to do the same. A small logo for this post will be added to front page, on the right side:

OUR 60-Minute Action-Gaza Plan (one-time, not daily):

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Palestinian…I am Palestinian

I carved it on all the fronts

With bold handwriting rising above all the headlines

My name follows me, lives with me, and nurtures me

It ignites the fire in my soul and pulses through my veins

The caves of mountains know me

I did my best then asked the nation to be

Salah Aldin is calling from deep inside me

All my arab identity calls for revenge and freedom

And my flags that were folded up on the hills of Heteen

And the voice of Muadhin Al Aqsa alarmed, calling for help

And thousands and thousands of prisoners

And calling on the nation and chanting

Telling them: To Al-Quds

To a war denouncing oppression and destroying Zionism

Raising Palestinian flags to the skies

And repeating my words

Palestinian…Palestinian…Palestinian

This poem was written by a Palestinian girl and the video can be seen on youtube. Powerful rhetoric can move mountains, if only it could move the hearts of oppressors.

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The broken land of my people was told to wait, though no one is busy and time is fleeting. My people are sick and some are dead and yet, they breathe and walk and go to work, but they are dead. The sick home of my people was told to be patient and it has been patient for hundreds of years, and though it is soaking with blood it promises to be patient until forever. The silence creeps up on mothers who hold the little ones that cannot breathe and cannot walk. Their fathers are nowhere to be seen; just like the food that once touched their lips and the comfort they felt knowing all was well. The sick land of my people has not heard of laughter and though we break and do not own much, our silence does not echo around the world.

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Rain….looked upon as a sign of mercy from the Creator for it gives life to that which is dead and by the permission of our Lord allows vegetation to come forth. This was a constant reminder for me every time I complained about droplets that fell from the heavens. So it didn’t matter that my jelbab was wet, that driving back to visit my parents in Central Jersey was a nightmare, that not being able to open the windows for a breeze was possible; it didn’t matter for this Mercy was the same that fell on the Muslims in Badr.

But, what about the snow? Little did I know what the snow would bring in. Everyone was talking about it, the double snow storm to hit the Northeast and there was Abu Zayna bundled up to go salt what seemed to be the world Now what exactly did the snow bring in? Simple answer: Read the rest of this entry »

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WAGWAN!

Pages of Durbah is glad to present a special interview with Yasir Qadhi, giving one and all a sneak peek at the upcoming AlMaghrib seminar in New Jersey, Precious Provisions.

Questioner:  Br. Adib, Ameer of Qabeelat Durbah
Answererer:  Yasir Qadhi, Dean of Academic Affairs and Instructor at AlMaghrib Institute.
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Based on a true story for the class, Rays of Faith, with Shaykh Waleed Basyouni.

The diagnosis failed to recognize the real addiction. The unbearable pain accompanied by a distraught sense of perception seemed to be never ending. The medicine, drips, and bedside care were doing nothing for him. Days went by and the only thing that managed to bring some solace and comfort were frequent visits from his son who understood his addiction. “Please, please, tell them” he pleaded to his son. “My heart is no longer with me, I cannot stay here Hudhaifa” said the old man in his feeble state.

The doctor’s refused to sympathize with Hudhaifa, his father had to remain on hospital premises for the next few weeks. Seeing his father in such a weak state like this hurt him, especially since he knew exactly why his father was suffering and what he was longing for. Having been residents of Taif for the last 20 years, his father had been accustomed to making the 2 hour commute to Makkah for maghrib salah everyday, and remaining in the haram for isha congregation. It had become a habit, a ritual, and without it he did not see his own existence.

He grew addicted to this custom and it was something that became a part of him. As some grow old and weak, and as their desires grow stronger for artificial happiness, this man had a weakness as well. It was the most beautiful weakness of all. It was a weakness that only a few individuals experience in a lifetime. It was a weakness that shattered his thoughts and made him numb to his surroundings. His heart was still in Makkah and it had been days since he had been there.

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Twice in the past week, I found myself in line at an establishment that I do my best to stay away from: Dunkin Donuts.  It is a place that finds many sipping and biting, sighing their alhamdulillahs into the steam rising from their tightly-held cups. For me, it is instead a place of torture.

It’s them, the ones behind the counter. The ones who await fresh and full of a sugary high. The ones who have beautified themselves for those like me, who want what they cannot have. They enrapture my senses. Their look, a golden glow in a somber world. Their smell, a scent of pure desire. Their touch, so soft, so oh so very soft. Their voice, silent yet screaming at me, “Take me”. Then there’s that sweet, melty taste, so sweet, so melty. They, of course, are Read the rest of this entry »

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Alone I was to my dark thoughts. I turned back and forth in my bed trying to find comfort in sleep. I simply couldn’t. My mind and heart were wandering around in a deranged world not yet ready for rest. I felt an urge to scream, but couldn’t. I felt an urge to weep, but my eyes were dry from past sleepless nights filled with tears. I needed a distraction. I needed an escape. I needed to forget.

“Knock, Knock”, all of a sudden I heard from afar. I glanced carefully, trying to see through the darkness surrounding me.

Little did I know, the devil himself paid me a visit with a guest I had not expected. The guest came in adorned and beautified as a bride is beautified for her groom–a courtesy from the devil himself. And so the night unraveled it’s dark tale. It happened just like that:

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What do they all have in common?

Well the first 2 were our big events for the previous 2 classes we had (SS40 and TSP). They are believed to be the reason we had the numbers we did at those classes.

For SS40 in July, we attended the ICNA Convention in CT. There were an estimated 13,000 people in attendance, the majority of which come from the NY/NJ areas. We had a booth, we had an announcement made right after a YQ speech at a Youth Conference session, where the attendance was close to around 1,500. Before ICNA, our registration/paid was at about 250/100. I believe this was one weekend before the class. The final numbers for the class were close to 600 registered and 471 in attendance. Our largest ever! And the largest for any Qabeelah in the U.S.

Forward to our next class after that, TSP which was held in October. The numbers were lacking big time for this class. We were at about 100 registered with a few paid right before Eid at Six Flags. This event was also just one week before the class. Most volunteers had lost hope (come on..you know you did:) but come class time we had close to or over 300 registered and about 250 in class. That’s not a whole lot, but still one of the largest double weekend class attendance we’ve had.

And now, Precious Provisions. We’re at about 200/118. Read the rest of this entry »

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Free Friday was highly appealing, a few hours in the company of friends, a break from Zam Zam, learning about the beloved Prophet (peace be upon him), and once again experiencing Durbah at it’s best. So with the green light from my better half and constant reassurances that he’d take GREAT care of Zam Zam, I bid a tearful goodbye to my baby and followed the path of ‘Ilm. Oh what a reunion, after having missed “Sacred Scrolls” it was nice to smell the Emanrush. “Where’s Zayna?” “You didn’t bring Zam Zam?” “We wanted to see your daughter!” Sigh, a fine welcome home it was The room was packed, sisters were all over the place, standing, sitting on chairs and the floor; young and old, veteran and new Al Maghribers alike were like sponges ready to absorb.

The class ended with the realization that I wouldn’t be able to take it; how could my 4 month old survive the day away from her accustomed surroundings?

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