The Silent Negativity Series – Part Eight

Soon I was out of rehab .

Slowly recovering and getting back to a so-called normal ‘good’ ‘clean’ life .

I tried as much as I could to frequent the Masjid .

Imraan encouraged me and he didn’t even make me feel uncomfortable .

I got back to work also .

My boss was very happy with my progress , although some people at work gave me the random stares .

You could say the pieces of our family puzzle was slowly falling into place .

Nabeela was back to her normal self . I hardly saw Aarifah since she’s in Matric now and she is a very dedicated student .

Sahal acted as if nothing happened .

We went daily after Fajr for Hifz Dhor together .

And everything was slowly falling into place .

I still smoked cigarettes . I guess old habits die hard .

I still kept contact with Taahir .

Zayn and Mike .

Mike is gone overseas for studying and assisting his dad in his business .

Zayn is still studying psychology .

Maleeha gave up on trying to call me and I wasn’t interested .

Sometimes when I went to the bakery or anywhere for that matter , I’d get the stares from people .
People used to even come and say ‘oh its you? Becoming holy?’ And they’d mock me .

It hurt .

I still wasn’t dressing like a good haaro poiro but I was trying . I mean I didn’t shave .. I wanna grow a beard . I want to . Its my decision .

I wear kurta sometimes on a Friday .

Imraan encourages me to wear for every Salaah … but I guess I’m not on that level of piety .

I’m not even pious yet .

I watch TV , I listen to music sometimes . I waste time!!

But I hope I will improve . Soon . Insha Allah .

Looking back at the past year , I just realised how much I’ve learnt , how much I’ve actually improved and reformed . I do feel different , no doubt about that . But … compared to a life of sinning like that I prefer this life . Sometimes I look back and think to myself that Allah has brought me this far . He has shown me different sides . I appreciate my Islam now more than before . I don’t actually like to admit this , but its the truth .

He brought me from the darkness to light …

So on this note … this series has ended .


Hope you enjoyed it .

Allah accept my broken efforts .

The Silent Negativity Series – Part Seven

Just like every other ordinary thing in life , there are pros and cons .

There are times when you’ll feel great and times when you’ll feel totally under the weather .

But there’s also a time when you’ll experience spiritual highs and spiritual lows .

Sometimes , you slack in your worship . You pray just for the sake of praying . You do things nonchalantly .

And that was exactly the situation at hand .

I wasn’t having a great day either .

I was back at rehab .

For starters , I was having withdrawal symptoms . I desperately needed some ‘stuff’ . It had been approximately 3 weeks without it . Although I was allowed cigarettes at rehab .

But it didn’t fully satisfy my cravings .

The sports were good . Especially the soccer .

After soccer I went up to one of the boys who resembled ‘him’ .

It was a cold winters evening . We just got back from one of the house parties and we were heading back home . It was around 3 in the morning and I was freezing . He offered me his jacket and he left with his motorbike . I greeted and we departed our ways . When I neared my house , my phone rang . I answered and it was him . He called me to the Masjid . He sounded like he was going through some tough issue . I thought he probably got run down by some bad guys . When I reached the Masjid , he was sitting in the courtyard . We were both ‘sober’ so we weren’t oblivious . He looked at me with a solemn expression . He was hurt . Someone had shot him . He was literally finished . But there was a miracle to it all . He held my hand and told me that he tried so many times to make Taubah but everytime , he returned back to drugs . Then every night he came to the Masjid crying and hoping for something to happen and now he has realised that his life is almost over . He put his head on my shoulder and cried . I was overwhelmed at this act of his .
I called an ambulance and they took him in .
The next day he wasn’t improving .
I waited for another day and another … until it was Friday .
He greeted everyone that morning .
And he left this world .
He was shot in the heart but the bullet pierced the organs surrounding his heart . And miraculously doctors thought he would’ve died instantly , but he didn’t .
He was my best buddy : Abdullah  .

I will never forget you , Abdullah  ..

And after his death , I was wounded emotionally . I was high almost every night . I couldn’t handle the pain . I wanted to numb the pain of losing someone close to me ..

I greeted the guy awkwardly . He greeted back .
He smiled and asked basic info about myself . I did the same .

“You look like someone I know .” I told him .

He was surprised .

“Me?” He questioned .

But in actual fact his name was Taahir and he had nothing to do with Abdullah . But he resembled him .

We spoke and soon became acquaintances .

I apologise for not posting for centuries? I’m exaggerating!
Really sorry ..
Next post will be this weekend Insha Allah .

Twitter : @Missmuslimah9

The Silent Negativity Series – Part Six

The cravings increased .

Zayn and Mike were prohibited from giving me any .

Mike felt sorry for me but he couldn’t give me .

Zayn was really happy that I was actually getting somewhere with the ‘sessions’ .

Deep down , I was starting to feel better …

But I just had to end up having bad days .

And bad moments .

After about 3 sessions with Dr. Muhammed , I was sent to rehab .

Now rehab isn’t something I adore . Everything is nice . I mean the activities they organise for us , the gyming , soccer , cricket and the Islamic awareness – everything is nice … but I feel like a mess …

I was stuck up .

I didn’t talk to anyone , only if the need arose .

There was one particular person who reminded me of ‘him’ .

And the memories flooded the sanctuary of my mind .

I wished I could push ’em away .. but I actually felt like I wanted to think about ‘the incident’ .

It made me feel somewhat better … Although I felt deppressed after that .

Yeah , understand the struggle?

I learnt a new thing .

Talking to my Lord .

Although that sounds like I’m getting all ‘moulana-ish’ , holy or pious and stuff …

But I swear it is beyond amazing .

Awesome . Wonderful .

I spoke to Him .

Speaking to him via my heart .

I cried inwardly ..

And it was just …

Something unexplainable .

I loved it .

One of the Moulana’s who spoke to us said that we will feel lonely , we will have our bad days – its part of life … but we must communicate with our Lord coz that’s the best communication you can ever get . His door never closes . He is there to listen to us at any time …

And it felt like I was getting emotionally better ,  daily .

After about a month , I came out of rehab . I needed more treatment but I was on a break for a few days .

My siblings were warming up to me .

Aarifah was slightly distant but that was her nature and personality .

Imraan was his usual self .

Nabeela warmed up a bit . She was more puerile like every other 16 year old her age .

Sahal was frightening me . He was becoming more mature and sophisticated . Carrying the Qur’aan in his heart transformed him into a different person . Not like all the other 14 year olds of today .

My dad didn’t say much (like always) but all I can say was that he wasn’t the same as before .

My mum was the same . Worrying ’bout me like I’m a big baby or something . C’mon , I’m old enough to look after myself . I am independant!

One day , I decided to have ‘me time’ . I sat down and pondered , meditated or whatever term you wanna use ..

And I just realise how much I’ve got to change .

I went to Dr. Muhammed and I discussed it with him .

He was quite surprised at the sudden change in me .

Nonetheless , he assisted me .

We draw up a list of things I want to do , need to do and I need to change . Prioritise .

If I hadn’t taken up the initiative , no one would’ve .

And that evening when I walked out of the Masjid craving a joint , I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my messed up life .

I needed to get my act together and do something .

I can’t live the rest of my life like a failure .

Like an idiot oblivious to everything around me . Oblivious to the fact that I have so much to change and reform that I become lost in another World abstinent from reality …

Sorry for not posting this week . I think I had writers block … anyways , I’m not too sure when this series will end but you know its not a long story – just a short story , yeah?

The Silent Negativity Series – Part Five

Mike grabbed me before I made any attempts .

I was glad , inwardly . I didn’t actually want to die .

I wanted to live a better life .

“Nabeel?! WTH?! How can you do this?” Zayn posed a rhetorical question to me .

I just shrugged .

He dragged me to the couch and sat me down .

He spoke to me like a ‘big bro’ and said I desperately needed help . Big bro talk .

Before I could refuse him , he already contacted some psychologist .

“You going to him on tomorrow morning . You heard?”

I nodded .

I didn’t want to protest .

I just had to give in  .

The past , Nabeel .

Haunts ya .

I was sitting at the psychologist’s waiting room . Waiting to be called in .

Finally , the secertary called me to go in .

Dr. Muhammed listened to me go on and on and on …

I told him everything from the beginning .

He asked a few questions in between but he was very understanding .

“My boy , you need help and I am here to help you .” He told me .

He spoke to me for a while and then the session was over .

Before I left , he gave me one last advice .

“One secret Nabeel . Turn to Allah . Its the answer to every single problem . If you want to get out of this mess , do that and next time when you come , I am going to ask you about this .” He told me in a very nice way .

I thanked him , paid and made my way out of there .

Zayn called me later .

I was too proud to actually say that I felt better .

But I admitted it him ..

I went home . Home as in real home .

Everyone was shocked .

But my mother came and gave me an ‘awkward’ hug .

“Nabeel , my bathcu . I’ve missed youuu.” She squealed .

Oh yeah? Thanks .

Haha .

Things were awkward around the house .

Nabeela and Aarifah looked at me as if studying me . They just shook their heads and walked away . Sahal gave me a forced smile .

But Nabeela was headstrong .

She came upto me after alot of ‘supposedly’ courage .

“You the worst brother anyone could ever have . I hate you . I had a soft spot for you but its diminishing if that’s even possible . You just run away . Get up to rubbish . Bad boy . People be like ‘your bro is the bad one right?’ ? I don’t know what to do .” She literally screamed at me .

Hate is a strong word . Stronger then when two people are in love . Argh .

Bad boy . I like the sound of that . (?!)

Nabeela was being irrational .

She was probably on one of her mood swings or something .

“Stop zoning out .” She told me . “Idiot .” She muttered after that .

So I’m an idiot also . Haha .

“Listen here Nabeela . You are a great sister , caring for me and stuff . But I don’t hate you back . You just needa do one thing , lil sis .” I told her calmly .

“And what is it?” She asked arrogantly .

“Pray for me Nabeela . That’s all I’m asking .” I told her shyly . Proudly?

“Since when you gone all holy and stuff?” She asked me enquiringly .

“I ain’t holy . I’m the bad boy , remember?” I smirked .

But I guess Dr. Muhammed was right . I needed to turn to Allah . Although all of this sounded so unlike me , I had to make it like me . I had to do something with my life .

The life of sin and vice seemed very appealing . It was enchanting . But it definitely lead to more grief and sadness .

And I was trying to make my conscious mind understand the reality of all of this .

Life can’t possibly carry on like this .

It was like I needed a push . Someone to push me and force me to do something .

Not actually force . I can’t be compelled to do something .

I must do it on my own will , right?

“Whatever Nabeel . But seriously . You need to do something . You such a messed up human being . ” She told me in a-not-so-mean-tone-but-a-not-so-cheerful-tone-either .

You such a messed up human being .

Oh yes . That’s true .

Imraan checked up on me .

He searched my back-pack .

My cupboards , pockets .

Anywhere he could find drugs .

I didn’t have any on me . So I was fine .

I wish I was clean .

But I still needed some .

I might need to go back to rehab .

Most highly .

Imraan spoke to me and I let him in of the recent happenings .

He was happy that I went to a psychologist .

Before he left my room that night , he surprised me .

“Nabeel . You know what?”

“What?” I asked curious .

“I’m getting married .” He said seriously .

“Whaaat?” I asked , raising the tone of my voice .

“Chill . I’m going to see the girl this weekend .” He told me . “Insha Allah .” He added .

“That doesn’t mean you getting married , bro .” I almost scolded him .

“Yeah . Yeah .” He laughed .

After Imraan left my room that night , I did an amazing thing .

I couldn’t believe my own self .

I prayed . As in made Du’aa .

I didn’t know what to say or how to do it properly .

But I lifted my hands , and tears just rolled down my cheeks .

The sadness was in my heart and I couldn’t put it to words but I just cried .

And I knew that my Lord will understand my feelings and what I was actually trying to say .

I just sat there , stunned at myself .

I felt different … although there was this bugging feeling inside that I couldn’t understand .

And I went to sleep like that …

So I just decided to try this out .

I don’t know .

Its not an actual story .

Its a short story kinda thing , yeah?

And it will be ending soon .

JazaakAllah . .

Request for Du’aas .

The Silent Negativity Series – Part Four

“Sahal . ” I said awkwardly .


“Congrats for uhh … the hifz.”

“You telling me that a week later . Bro , you late . Seriously , fashionably late .” He sniggered

I rolled my eyes .

My parents continued lecturing me to such an extent that I moved in with Mike at his apartment .

It was extremely annoying for them to continuously lecture me .

Nothing I did was ever right .

I stopped going to the Masjid .

I was their rebellious kid , how?

Mike and I were on highs almost every night .

I continued working coz I needed the money .

I started getting very tired .

I slept way more often than ever .

One day , Zayn came over .

It was surprising to see Zayn since he was the good one amongst us .

I was addicted . He wasn’t fully addicted . Know what I mean?

He was too busy immersed in his ‘studies’ for drugs . He took it on weekends and sometimes during the week .

Zayn looked at me , scanning me incredulously .

“Bro . Everythings alright?”

I nodded .

He wasn’t convinced .

I didn’t actually care . No-one tried contacting me during these few days at Mike’s place .

Imraan did message me giving me the ‘Muslim Image’ pep talk .


Zayn took me aside questioning me .

“You don’t look fine at all . Nabeel , what’s up?” He said with concern in his voice .

When Zayn used my real name , he meant business .

“Its a long story . And I don’t wanna divulge into its inner details .” I said shrugging .

“Nabeel . Shut up . And talk .” He said getting serious .

“You just told me to shut up and talk?!” I said sarcastically .

“No sarcasm . Start . Now!” He said a little too stern .

“So my parents didn’t chuck me out . But the lectures , ya know what I mean? Yeah . They were too much . Everything I did was (colourful words) wrong . And still is . So I got tired of their rubbish . I moved in with Mike for now . Anything else you wanna know?” I stated , looking outside .

Johannesburg grounds .

He studied me for a long while .

“And the drugs? You guys go out every night?” He questioned .

“The past two nights , yeah . Its awesome . ” I told him .

“I think you depressed .” He said looking at me , expressionless .

I was stunned .

Then I got angry .

How dare he say that?!

I ain’t a psycho .

I grabbed him by his collar and swore him .

Then I held myself and walked to the punching bag .

I started punching and I gave him a piece of my mind .

Why I felt like a mess .

All of the emotional stuff .

When I was done , I turned around to see him standing there .

He was biting his lip .

“Stop . Now!” He commanded .

I stopped .

“I’m taking you to a psychologist .” He said matter-of-factly .

When Zayn said something , there was no way I could say no . He wouldn’t take no for an answer .

Zayn was in his first year of psychology . Although , it didn’t seem like it suited him – it was what he wanted .

“NO!” I screamed at him . “You CANNOT take me to a stupid PSYCHOLOGIST . Am I psycho , huh?!”

Mike walked in .

He looked at both of us for answers .

I pointed to Zayn .

Zayn didn’t say anything so I told Mike that Zayn wanted to take me to a stupid psychologist .

That was it .

I was psycho .

No – one actually cared .

My life was a mess .

My future is most likely to be a mess .

Death will be the best . I guess .

I walked towards the window .

4 floors down was the ground .

Will I die?

I was scared .

Zayn and Mike didn’t think I was gonna do something so drastic .

They were discussing ‘me’ .

This will end the pain .

No more numbing the pain .

It’ll be gone … forever .

I stood by the window looking down .

Here we come , death .

Nervous .

But I want to live …

I was about to jump but before that , I turned to Mike and Zayn .

“Don’t worry ’bout me . I’m goin’ for good now . Take care …”