The Saved Ones

What will become of us,
The ones who have forgotten Allah
You, the Martyrs of Islam,
Paradise, surely, your eternal abode

The Almighty brings you closer to Him
Through your hardship and oppression
Us, we have shunned Him
For us, our judgement yet unknown

Your children
Your mothers
Your fathers
Your brothers
Your sisters
Limps and hearts they have lost
But Jannah they have truly earned
Allah knows best
Jannah to you has been given

What will become of us
Who dwell in wordly luxuries
What will become of us!
Whose wordly happiness begets evil

O'WHAT will become of us
Who enjoy the now
Who will suffer the Calamity

You! Who now carry your dead in your arms
Will cradle them Alive in the Gardens of Eden
This, The Lord,
The Rab of the Worlds has promised to You
Verily, the Truth is clear in the eyes of the Believers
And blinded are the hearts of the Murderers of Murderers

O' my children of the Gardens of Eternity
How envious I am of you
You whose sufferings have ended
You who will or now bask in the warmth and pleasure of Our Lord

I whose happiness is the now
Whose sufferings will come
How I fear to face

Today, we cry for you
Tomorrow, please pray for us

While your bliss is then eternal
So will Allah's Wrath be upon us

- Words by Jaslina Yassin
For the martyrs of Islam
For the children and the people of the oppressed

MADINAH and MAKKAH

In the Name of Allah, The Most Gracious, The Most Merciful.

It has been three weeks since I came back from the Blessed Lands. It was my second Umrah since 2007. I was fortunate to have had my VISA approved for the recent pilgrimage. From what I HAD heard, many applicants from Singapore were not able to make their Umrah last June. So Praise Be to Allah, I was one of the lucky few. 

I was very nervous prior to the trip. I was afraid of Allah's Wrath upon me because of all my sins, my shortcomings, my broken covenants to Him. I was no longer the loudmouth, the arrogant, the strong. I was weak, I became a coward, I became afraid. Memories of terrible things that I had done played in my mind like a book with never-ending pages of my bad deeds. And I knew I was going to have to pay for them somehow on Allah's Blessed soil.

Then at this point, many might ask, why did I go then? Why was I so anxious and eager for my trip to be approved by the Saudi embassy? Why did I plan to go in the very first place if I already knew that I was going to pay for my bad deeds at the Haram where no sins are kept secret, where all sins are revealed if He Wills! 

The answer is simple...I had to. 

I knew, I was not really a bad person. No. But like many other human beings, I am weak. Weak and easily succumbed to the whisperings of the deceitful Shaytan. I was a victim of Shaytan. Today, I still am. 

So the 'good' in me knew, I had to get away from the materialistic things of life. I had to drop all that Allah had given me as adornments in my life and go closer to Him and seek His Mercy and Forgiveness for being the Devil in me. 

                                                                 MADINAH

It was a long journey. But I reached there safely on 8 June 2014 at about 3.30am. When I saw the brightness illuminate from Masjid Nabawi in Madinah Munnarawah in the still and darkness of the night, when the Ustaz recited du'as and prayers in the coach, warm tears flowed down my cheeks. I was here. After 7 years, I was back. And all humbleness overtook me. In my self of self, I surrendered COMPLETELY to Allah, my Lord, my Maker. I was ready...to step into the Haram...to feel the closeness of my Beloved Prophet Muhammad Peace Be Upon Him, to feel the realness of the history of my beloved religion, Islam. 

 The next day forth, I established all my prayers in the wondrous mosque of my prophet. I took in the smell of my surroundings. I felt at ease in the scorching and dry heat. I immersed myself in prayer, in reading the Qur'an, I forgot who was Shaytan. I only remembered and felt Allah so close to me that I could burst. As I prayed in Raudah, I choked on my tears throughout my recitations of the Holy Verses and I prayed and I hoped, and I prayed and I hoped that on the Day of Judgement, my beloved Prophet Muhammad Peace Be Upon Him, will plead for forgiveness for me to his Lord and spare me His Wrath and Punishment. I prayed that I will be one of the ummah who would make my prophet proud...that I can be a Muttaqin who will be saved from the horrors of the Day of Judgement and raging flames of Hellfire. 

Being a Muslimah, I was not allowed to go close to the resting place of my beloved Prophet Muhammad Peace Be Upon Him. But I was blessed with a spacious area to establish my prayers in Raudah. While the barricades were high to block us, I could see the Mimbar where my beloved Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) had used to give his sermons. I could feel his presence and hopefully, from Paradise, he was happy with what he saw - his Ummah rushing to prayer, rushing with eagerness to plead for Mercy from the Almighty.

As I type these words, flashes of memories of my time in Masjid Nabawi play in my mind and I cry tears of heartache , missing the beautiful and grand Masjid where I had, at one moment, a chance to pray as if I was establishing my prayers in Paradise, God Willing. I cry tears of regret for not having done more, done better when I was there. I wish I had given more of me. I wish I had cried more. I wish I had felt more remorse and regret for my wrongdoings when I was there. I wish...but a wish too late. 

With a heavy heart, on the fourth day, I said my goodbyes to Allah's Beloved. It was time to go on a bigger mission. It was time, to make my Umrah.

     



















                                                          MAKKAH

Allah blessed my journey from Madinah to Makkah. It was a smooth one. Already when I had boarded the coach from Madinah, I had already felt so nervous, so anxious. I did not know what to expect though I had been to see the Qa'bah 7 years ago. I felt like a child waiting to open her present. I mentioned I was afraid at the beginning of my writing, yes? But no, strangely, I felt no fear. I felt only eagerness, anticipation. I was going to see the Qa'bah...again. I was going to be right at the spot where I had to face when I established my prayers back home. I was going to be at the centre of the earth. I was going to be where ALL MUSLIMS met in equality, in peace, in harmony, in a state of surrender to the one and only Creator of the Worlds. 

Yes, the feeling was strange and it last throughout the journey on the road. 

It just felt like...I...was going Home. 

The pilgrims in my coach were told that we were going to wash up and have some food at the hotel before we would go to the Grand Mosque to perform Umrah. Ok...so there was still time. I told myself to look away from the mosque when the coach stopped in front of the hotel because it was located right beside the mosque. I did not want to look. I did not want to have to see the mosque or even catch a glimpse of the Qa'bah and then have to wait till hours later to come back to it. I wanted to be in awe when I saw the Qa'bah. I wanted to preserve the feeling of catching my breath with the Qa'bah in sight after so many years. And then coupled with that feeling, I wanted to stay and perform my Tawaf, my Sa'ee. 

No, I would safe that feeling for later...after dinner when I would be performing my Umrah.

The time came. It took me awhile to adjust to the change of my surroundings since 7 years ago. A few escalators down from the lobby of the hotel and I would step onto the cool marble of the Grand Mosque of Allah in Makkah. 

As usual, every prayer house in Islam is never dark, never dim, never eerie. The lights of the Grand Mosque shot into my eyes like spears. Yes...I was in awe of the grandness of Allah's House. I was nearing the Qa'bah. Soon, I will see the Qa'bah...again. Just a few more steps. 

And when It was in sight, I felt weak in my limps, I felt like sudden surge of energy lost from my body, I felt like my spirit had taken a jolt of lightning and it had gone weak. I felt like my problems had all been washed away and Allah was right here, and I was right here...screaming inside for Allah to hold me tight and tell me...that I was home. I was home. 

I cried. Like never before, I cried. Like a baby, I cried in the palms of my hands as I made my Tawaf. At that moment, my heart was a void. The other pilgrims passed by me like they were shadows. I did not feel them. I did not see them. I saw only the Qa'bah on my left and I heard only my sobs. I felt only plain submission and surrender. And that was all. That was enough for me to forget myself, to forget my life back home. THIS was my home. 

My daily routine in Makkah was beautiful. It was submissive. It was pure surrender. It was pure worship. It was pure bliss. No worries, no fear, no arrogance, no haughtiness. I guarded my tongue. I pleaded for Allah's help to guard my tongue from 'wagging like a dog', from spouting evil and untruths. I pleaded for Allah's help to grant me patience, a virtue I lack. And He answered my every prayer. He heard and He answered. He accepted my pleas for blinding my heart to the distractions and the bad around me when I was there because I saw only the good. Allah protected me from evil within myself and around me. My days in Allah's Grand Mosque were like a page out of my book of life. The only perfect page that I would like to read over and over and over again. 

Needless to say, my heart broke when I had to leave on 17 June 2014. It pains me to write about my goodbye to the Qa'bah and to the glorious Grand Mosque of Allah. So I shall not dwell on it here. 

As I cried my last tears after Tawaf Wada'...I vowed to Allah that I would never let the flame of faith die in me. I would forever keep the memory of Qa'bah in my heart, in my soul and carry on with life ONLY to do deeds to earn Allah's Pleasure. And where I should fail, I would beg Him for His Forgiveness and Mercy and keep myself, 24 7... in a state of remorse, regret and complete submission to The Almighty...to The Rab of the Worlds. 

Here I end, my story of my homes, Madinah and Makkah. But I would never stop missing them and praying for my return...to where I truly belong. 

Assalamualaikum...to whom I have had the honour and pleasure of sharing this celestial and honourable experience, Willed only by Allah. 

Hijab - Fashion or Faith?

Hijab. Fashion or Faith? For me? Well, it's a combination of both and yet, it is totally two separate things. How so?

It was faith that spurred me to put on the hijab.  It was faith that pushed me to dispose off my mini skirts, my spaghetti-strap tops, my ultra-short shorts, my bare-backs and see-through what-have-yous. It was faith that guided me to see that I had not been protecting myself from the leering eyes of men. It was faith that taught me to love myself by covering up from head to toe like a velvet bag would shelter a diamond. Unlike many of my girlfriends who faced challenges when they began to don on the hijab, I must confess, truthfully, when I first put on the hijab, it was like the most natural thing to do. No. I was not afraid of the comments I would receive at work. No. I was not afraid of the extra heat I would feel with so much more material on me. No. I was not afraid of the huge change I would have to make to my wardrobe. NO. In fact, I felt MORE of a Muslimah. I felt like I had elevated myself many notches. I felt like "Hey! Where was I all this while!!!" I felt a new me with my hijab.

It is in every woman to want to look good. Every day as I got dressed and styled my headscarf or chose what to wear before leaving the house, I noticed myself mixing and matching my clothes AND my scarfs. Covering up did not change me. I still loved to dress up. I still loved fashion. Only this time, I would wear a blazer over a long skirt as opposed to a tank top over a mini skirt. My colours are still bright and vibrant. I discovered I could look stylish while keeping my faith. How cool is that!

Oh of course even with my hijab on, there will always be haters. Strange isn't it when we're set out to do something right, the haters seem to get closer and breathe down your neck even more often than usual. Hahahahaha! "What you are wearing is NOT HIJAB!" "You cannot wear jeans! That's NOT HIJAB!" "What Hijab are you talking about if you're wearing skinnies and showing your ankles!" "You call this HIJAB? You might as well not cover up!" Astaghfirullah! The things people can say to get a sister down! Do not for a minute insult my knowledge about my religion. I know the appropriate way to cover up. I may not be doing it appropriately but I am taking that one step towards it am I not? Erm...ARE YOU? Don't judge. You may state your opinions. But don't judge. It's bad enough that the 'khafirs' are hot on our heels trying to bring us Muslims to extinction. The world does not need any Muslim haters towards a fellow Muslim. Me donning on the Hijab inappropriately does not make my faith towards God any less. I may score lesser points with Him but that's between my Master and me, right? My faith, is in my heart. Nobody can look into my heart but my Creator. Soooo...DON'T judge my faith through my fashion.

Let's pray instead that one day, I'll cover up better. I'll cover up more appropriately. Let's pray instead that one day, YOU my sisters in Islam, will get to discover what I discovered...through FAITH. Insyaallah!

My Son, My Mercy

There are many things that I have said and done in my life which I have regretted and wished I hadn't done them in the first place. But the ONLY thing right now that I know I have surely done right, is to have given birth to my 1-year old, Lil' Muhammad. It is a wonder how I have blossomed through my years and it has amazingly escalated since I became a mother. Many used to call me a free-spirit during my years when I was still extremely young to the ways of the world and when I was swinging single. True that! I didn't have a care in the world. I knew I had a home (my parents') to return to after my late nights out. I could date anyone I wanted and I could spend my days lazing around, watching every single sitcom, drama series or movies I wanted in my room and nobody would care! Religion? Well, I only started to out my foot down to perfect myself in my religious duties after I found out that I was carrying my baby boy in my tummy last year. Before that, I wasn't at all afraid when I had missed a prayer or when I wasn't a hijabi. I was what I would say now, a wreck.

Somehow or rather, I think God saw that I was worth saving and He salvaged me before I really lost myself. You know what He did? He gave me the heaviest and the most honourable position ever in this world. He made me a mother.

Being a mother has changed my mentality in so many things. In fact, it has largely changed me as a person. My priorities has taken a 360-degree turn, my view and perspectives on many things have differed from before, my meaning in life has changed. Some people around me have commented that I am obsessed with my son. The word 'obsessed' usually denotes negativity. But in this case, I am completely fine with it! Then again, I wouldn't say that I am obsessed with him. It's just that, his existence in my life has changed me...for the better! And I have no one but God to thank for. The way I see it, Lil' Muhammad has been sent as a mercy to me alone. For all the crap that I have done before, I find myself taking the road to repentence now. Sounds cheesy? Maybe. But I cannot lie about how I feel. My son has humbled me in so many ways and yet made me more resilient in the many challenges I face in life. You may ask me...how? Look here. This child here, he's a life. A new life. He has no sin. And he was sent to me for a reason and there can only be ONE reason. To be nurtured, developed and loved. To be taught the Straight way so that he grows up to be a better Muslim than I am. And I know, to do this, I cannot afford to do it alone because I don't have the ability. I need God's help. And as I become more aware that I have to answer for all my deeds, I have started to evaluate myself as much as I possibly can with every decision I make for my son, with every act I carry out for my son.

Lil' Muhammad at 11 months

Soon, I will be taking off on a family trip. Till now, I wish that I had no part in making this decision. What was I thinking!!! I will be taking my son to this place that I used to go to when I was still clad in my skimpiest of the skimpiest, doing things that would put the wrinklest frowns on any parent!!! I stamped part of my free-spirited history at that place and now I am taking my son there? I mean there are so many places I can take him to but nooooo...I have to take him to the Island of Jaslina's Book of 'FUN'! Nice move mummy dearest. I dread the approaching day. I really dread every second that ticks by, closing in to the day when I would have to pack his bags and shove him into the car and onto a trip that I wish would take us someplace else...like...Mecca...Medina...somewhere close to the heart. I won't even mind staying on and spending time and money doing up my new place. As the saying goes, 'Rumahku Syurgaku'. My home is my paradise.
It is my responsibility to decide for my son now while he is still young. I am ashamed to take my son there, I am ashamed of what I did to myself, not behaving respectably well as a Muslim woman at that place and now I am supposed to be proud and happy for taking my son there? A slap across the face is insufficient for this wrong decision that I had made. And for every wrong decision I make, I have to answer for it...whether it be to God or to myself. I strongly believe that every parent is a role model to his or her child. But I know I do not have the ability to turn back. Should they one day grow up and do things that you frown upon, before you even judge, ask yourself have you done it before when you were young yourself? Did you do anything to stop your child from following in your footsteps? If you did...kudos! If you didn't, then don't point the finger because you've got four pointing back at yourself. I always tell myself this.
Never make the mistake by assuming that your child is too young to learn anything or to notice anything. Our children are always learning, always observing.Some parents who might come across this post might be laughing their hats off thinking that I am making a mountain out of a mole hill. Laugh away. My child is mine. My decision is mine to make. My regrets are mine to shoulder. My grave is mine to dig. Live your life. I live mine.

I am happy to be a mother. I am happy to include my son in all my prayers because I pray to see him blossom under the eyes of his greatest and wisest educator, Allah. And as my son learns and goes through every challenge in his life, as his mother, I learn with him, I fall with him, I rise with him. Allah has placed this innocent life in my hands to guide him, to nurture him, to teach him the values of Islam. Allah has placed this innocent life in my hands, to change me, to humble me, to wake me up from the long meaningless slumber that I have been in for much too long. Allah has given me a chance to redeem myself. Today, I am a very tired and exhausted human being and I have many more years to come I know insyaallah. But I am much more contented with what I have and what I am going through. I am more resilient in many ways. I see past obstacles and challenges. Maybe I go through most of them with tears and heartaches and pain but I know that the end of the road is awaiting me with Allah's forgiveness and love.

Hijab - Be proud of it!

Sometimes when I do read the papers (I NEVER like reading the papers because it is filled with lies and propaganda...), I am saddened by cases of rape and molest. As the world gets closer and closer to judegment day, it also starts to get dirtier and sicker by the second. Rape and molest are not restricted to women alone but even to children and sicker still but true, even to animals. Astaghfirullah! Allah is Great! He who has created this earth is reminding us again and again, this world, is but temporary. This world...is nowhere near the Paradise He has promised His believers. Albeit my sympathy for the victims of humiliation and destruction of their pride and dignity...I cannot help but point another finger to the victims themselves, primarily to the adults. Let us then leave our children and animals out of this.

Women.

We are the cause of men's lust and uncontrollable sexual desire. Yes! We are THAT powerful. A man can have all the riches in the world but he gets weak in the knees when he is presented a creature so beautiful, so pure and pleasing to the eye. Oh my dear fellow male friends, do not even deny what I have written. You might say not all women are beautiful. But you cannot turn away from events of rape and humiliation of even elderly women, handicapped women, women who are intellectually challenged...these have happened and are still happening around the world. Then again, I turn my attention back to us...as women...are we going to allow this to continue? Are you really going to let this happen to you? To your daughters? To your daughters' daughters?? Wake up! Cover up! You who possess the lustrous body, you who possess the beauty, you who possess that essence of purity and artwork of flawlessness. Are you not going to protect yourselves? You who jog in isolated places in your tight shorts and spaghetti tops, you who dress in your low-cut dresses in the clubs filled with drunkards, you who lay on the beaches in your bikinis and sometimes WITHOUT! And you blame the men for their roaming eyes and hands on you? You entice them with your clothless bodies. Who then is to be blamed? It is unfortunate that there are Muslim sisters who say they feel contricted, unliberated when they have to cover up. I am guilty of the same before. But really? Do we REALLY feel free when we show our skin? Are we only liberated when we are in our mini skirts and bareback- tops? Now, in my hijab, I am respected for my talent, my abilities, my true self. I am not given liberties because of how much skin I flaunt, how much hair I show. A fellow Muslim brother lowers his gaze in respect when we cross paths. A man walks past me as if I were invisible! How powerful is that! I am protected with my hijab on! I AM beautiful...in Allah's eyes. Allah protects all who love Him and whom He loves.

Covering Up in Islam

I have mentioned before in a previous post in this blog that I only put on the hijab at the age of 31 after I had given birth to my first child, Lil' Muhammad. Till today, I wish I had put it on much much earlier. I would have saved myself from many a thing that I refuse to mention here. I used to be one who jeered at my fellow Muslim sisters in hijab. Today, I pray and hope that Allah will forgive me and bestow upon me His Mercy for my rudeness and disrespect towards my own religion. My dear sisters in Islam, let us protect what Allah has given us. Put on the hijab.
What IS hijab? Hijab is not a headscarf. No. Hijab is a veil. What then constitutes a veil in Islam? Our clothes, our garments, our dress from head to toe. The hijab protects us from the leering eyes of men, it protects us from intense heat from the sun, it protects us from the harsh environment that we are living in today. The hijab tells a beautiful story of women in Islam, that we are Allah's creatures who deserve respect, courtesy and manners from others. The hijab shows our daughters and sons that we respect ourselves FIRST before we respect our husbands. The hijab shows how much responsibility we have over ourselves. The hijab reflects that Islam is a way of life.


I am happy to see that more and more of my girlfriends are putting on the hijab. Together we are going on this learning journey of keeping it covered. Together we are always reflecting and correcting our ways. We may not be putting on the ideal hijab but we are trying.
This brings me to another issue. As a fellow Muslim sister, please do not be a discourager. You are in no position to judge any sister on the way she puts on the hijab. It is her parents' responsibility to guide her. If she is married, leave it to her husband to do the job. If you yourself do not put on the hijab, all the more you should keep mum and take a look at yourself in the mirror. Yes, a sister might not be putting on the ideal hijab but at least, she is covering up somewhat. ARE YOU? While she is finding all reasons to put on the hijab, youare  finding all the reasons NOT to put on the hijab. While she is slowly earning Allah's love, you are still quite far off in terms of your dressing, Allah knows best. I have made this mistake before and I hope you will not continue to do so.

Fellow Muslim sisters, let us change before it is too late. Let us not allow others to deter us from what we need to do as Allah has commanded us to do. Let us be proud to be sisters in hijab. Let us stand up for Islam, for our religion and the wonderful values that it imparts. Let us teach our daughters to love themselves, to protect themselves, to have pride and dignity as respectable Muslimahs. Let us take this step ourselves FIRST before we even judge others. If so, let us NOT judge at all for Allah is the Best Judge and the One who knows best.

Meaning In Life

Two days back, I had the privilege of attending a workshop at work. One of the subtopics that was covered in the workshop was about 'meaning' in life. The speaker posted a question to all of us, 'What is meaning in life to you?' Each of us was given a paper to pen down his or her thoughts. Almost everyone in my group wrote that it is to enjoy, to be happy, to be positive. I on the other hand, had a different response. At first, I did feel a little relunctant to share my thoughts on meaning in life. But if I did not write what I truly felt, I knew I would have had nothing to write at all. Indeed, I agreed with most of my group members that it is essential to be happy and it is true that every day we wake up, we know have a choice, either to be happy or not be happy. I probably would have thought and written the same thing had this question been posted to me like two years ago from now. But my religious side thugged at me as I prepared to pen down my response.  Meaning in life? I evetually wrote, 'To live for the next.'
'DEEEEEEP!!' was the response I got from my fellow group members. I laughed along. Yes, it is deep. What does it mean then when I wrote 'To live for the next.' What was 'next'? And if so, what does 'next' have in store for me that I live this life, God knows how long I'm gonna live for, only to live for another? Sounds confusing? Not really.

Muslims believe in the afterlife. We are taught that this world is only a stage. Life on this 'stage' is not eternal. Whereas the afterlife, which is life after death, IS eternal. On this 'stage', we are performers who perform our essential duty to the one and only Creator. We are worshippers who bow only to the One God we know. We are servants of our Lord. We live only to earn His love so that we will recieve His rewards as promised to us ever since He had created the first man on earth. Think of this life as a platform for us to earn points from good deeds. The more points we earn, the higher chance of us living in His highest level of Paradise. And in Paradise or Hell, is where eternal life exists. Some of us may think, "Servants?! Worshippers?!". Yah, makes one feel small doesn't it? But what's wrong with feeling small? We SHOULD feel small. We are creations of our Creator after all! Who are we to be cocky? Who are we to question? Who are we to feel that we are so much higher in standard than anyone else in the human race to begin with?? But we are given freewill some might say. Yes. True that. But freewill to do what? Freewill to make the right choice in life, to search for the true meaning in this life. And for me at least, it is to live for the next life, to prepare to achieve true happiness that cannot and will not be taken away from us, to be happy always because we live as if we are going to die anytime to see our Lord, to surrender to be home with Him. He who loves us unconditionally, He who promises us paradise in the afterlife if we only obey His every command, He who forgive us with all His mercy even though every second in our life we make mistakes, we err, we forget ourselves, we forget Him!! Really, why live to achieve the materials in this life when we are promised a million times more in life after death?

To live life, is to be happy.And I have the ability to choose to be happy in this life and to be happier in the next. The meaning in life is to make the right choice because we are given autonomy, we are given freewill. But first, we must know, what IS the right choice. And for someone like me who has wrecked my life for 31 years before realising my true purpose, my meaning in life, I now know what is the right choice. And that is to choose to be happy with my Lord. To do everything only because I know He approves of it, He likes it.  I want to be with Him now and after I die. I want to feel His love enveloping me as I walk along the rivers in His Jannah God-willing! I want Him to love me now and forever. I know that if I manage to earn His love in life, He who has Created everything from the littlest atom to the vast universe, I would never have to worry about anything else anymore. I would have already achieved true happiness and await my judgement for the afterlife without fear but with longing and love of my Creator. I would have fulfilled my meaning in this life.

My meaning in life...is to live for the next. This life? It is only temporary. The afterlife, is where meaning no longer exists. What exists is only what I have only been working for and that is true happiness to keep and to bask in for eternity as promised by my Lord, insyaallah!

I Keep It Covered

I never thought that ONE day, in my 32 years of life, I would actually be looking through my wardrobe and decide on which headscarf to wear for the day. I used to love showing off my hair. Well, not that I have super gorgeous hair but my hair was my crown and I was proud to wear it in public. I'd do stuff to my hair. Splashed it with colours, straightened every strand (well almost) with a hot iron, curled it with the curling iron, got it treated at the hairdresser's. Oh I gave my hair the works yes I did. And believe you me, I was one of those who would always look at hijabis with a dirty look and comment,"What a pity to be hidin' hair under that scarf!" or "How CAN these girls stand the heat all wrapped up in their layers of cloth on their head!" OR "These girls...all covered up...plain boring!"
Astaghfirullah! Satan had got to  me then. He really did! But thank God, things changed. Well, I changed. Took me 31 years till I woke up to my senses but yah, better late than never I suppose? I started to keep it covered after I gave birth to my son, Lil' Muhammad. Most of my friends were shocked of course. Me? A hijabi? Really?! Well yeah. I put on the headscarf, long sleeves, long pants, skirts. I started to fill in the shoes of those 'boring girls' I used to talk about before. My friends asked me, why, how, for what reason did I become one of those I used to sneer at and past nasty remarks at!
I only had one answer, I was ready. I was ready to do what I was actually required to do the moment I reached puberty. It is a must for all Muslimahs to cover up once we hit puberty. Many think that putting on the headscarf is a choice for us. No. It was never a choice. Never!
So I became a hijabi at 32. Old. Much too old. Too much had already been exposed but I pray Allah forgive me for my ignorance and pride. I felt good when I first put it on. For the first time in my life as a Muslim, I felt like I had only begun to really feel proud being a Muslim all covered up. The magical feeling of being protected under my 'cover', the feeling of representing the ideal Muslim woman in my religion, the feeling of receiving respectful glances wherever I go...feels AWESOME.
Today, I simply cannot imagine going out in shorts, spaghetti straps, short skirts and scarfless! I would feel naked that I'm sure. Cheap! And much much too exposed!
Today, I'm a proud Muslimah, a happy hijabi 'cos I keep it covered.