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Silsala-e-Roz-o-Shab

I like to talk about winter, especially the kind we're having these days. Around 2-3 degrees. That's not snowy at all, but, nonetheless, chilling to the bone. Yet, it cannot be discarded as cold, frigid or frosty, as if non-invigorating; rather very poetic, mystifying, contemplative. No matter how difficult may it be to survive outside warm clothing and blankets, my adventuresome nature is inclined to cycle outside around parks, the greenery of which, though, seemingly not-too-energetic, but 'up-to-something', active, vigilant, calm, and never devoid of representing life.

In this weather, I am trying/trying-to-do many things. Waking early to pray fajr prayer which has become the 'mujahida' (effort) of these days; keeping my promises, no matter how small; being nice to people, and not to criticize the state of decadence we are all in, excluding myself though; trying to read books more than spending time online; setting out and fixing priorities of my life, working out a hierarchy of it; avoiding spending too much money; remaining hopeful of the mercy God and seeking His refuge from the Illusions of this World. Prayers help a lot, i mean the direct prayers made to Allah, swt, after the canonical prayers. I receive responses to my calls very quickly when the supplications are made not in customary, disinterested manner, but with hope, sincerity and awe of His Majesty.

Apart from that, I am also helping my cousin top in Viva/interview section of C.C.S. Exams in Pakistan, the highest civil service exams. She has passed the written test, and for past few years, off-shore, I've been her Research Associate (*flattering himself*), providing data on any topic with the help of Shaykh Google and other 'viable' mediums. During this research, I've come across a wonderful personality, Dr. M. K. Pachauri (sounds as Peshawri, as if belonging to Peshawar). His portrait is shown below. He has been awarded Nobel Prize for his remarkable work on climate change, alarming world of the consequences of the misrule of moder man. You read about him, his articles here.


  Alhamdulialh, I am becoming regular in attending the lectures/bayans of Mufti kamal ud Din, a teacher of Islamic studies and spirituality at LUMS, a university, also a disciple of Shaykh Zulfiqar Ahmed, may Allah bless him. They are profound, full of grace, and very useful. They are just too superior to all Western sciences taught at universities to be fully described in words. Allahumma Barik 'Alaih.


My habit of reading business journals has been disrupted, and that's a loss i incurred at the end of last year, with purchases of reading material declining, overall. The focus is shifting, nonetheless, to quality and relevant reading. Not to loose focus is the point. But the craze of reading Amir Hamza dastan has not vanished at all, i've bought most of the volumes of it published by Ferozesons for children like me. Although i won't recommend for everyone to read, perhps original dastan written in difficult Urdu (as for today's reader) may be more helpful for grown-up admirers of Amr Ayyar and Amir Hamza. Above all, I go back in time (see below!).

Recently a friend of my age, my dearest class fellow with whom I's very much attached, died, perhaps to some kind of heart attack, it was very fatal. It was shock of us, the student community, for we are used to think of death as something as distant as those grapes which cannot be reached, but after 40-50 years. We are inclined to believe, however sub-consciously or not, that we're permanent, even if that to be considered for a whole day. With this mindset many pupils and people who knew him questioned why or how could that have happened? And I's alamred to spell-out the phrase: untimely death. I found Gai Eaton advocating the matter for me, he writes:

The common phrase "an untimely death" seems, to the Muslim, close to blasphemy; every death is right on time. Moreover to ask "Why?" when someone dies young is absurd. The question suggests that we expect to comprehend the total scheme of things, known only to God, and imagine that our strictly limited minds can grasp - or should be able to grasp - what is far beyond their compass. (Remembering God, Gai Eaton.)

May Allah forgive his soul and give him peace. And He forgive our ignorance as well. Aameen.

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MuddleHead Signs Off!!