and then our exile

We live until we die. Her name was Apprehensive, known to her friends as Appy. She was a chicken, a beautiful miniature hen, who entered this world in Rochester, and via the Sherwood Park post office made her way to Wuddistan, where she lived out the next years of her life. Hers was a full life—she saw a brood-sister succumb to the cold, and a brood-brother, a proud little rooster, disappear into the wilds, never to be heard of again (but that when the moon is new and the night is dark, his high-pitched crow comes drifting over the moors, calling, calling). She hatched eggs not her own, raised successive batches of chicks, taught them the ways of the world, and endured their terrorism when they grew bigger and forgot her. She laid little brown eggs and flew across the earth on her soft feathered feet. And now she is gone.



inna lillah, wa inna ilaihi raji’oon

and a good little appy was she.

Here, 9000 kilometres away, on the other side of the globe, the cold has dissolved. “the halcyon days of summer”

I’m trying to find someone who can teach al-Kafi and some basic ‘aqidah texts. Maybe I’m dreaming.

To the Bukhari dars last night, third time. A great white shining mosque, lit in the night, and Sh.Na’eem al-‘Araqsusi speaking to hundreds of students. Arabic is to that my notes encompass most of the class, except a lot of the key points are missing. I think I’m too impatient. I could stay here for years.

We go to HJ to get our exit permits tomorrow, du’a we don’t end up in jail as well.

Tonight last year was the MUN^2 banquet, James Kalen Allison and I taking apart meh-ness, and then at home watching doctrinal debate, the Muslim foundation and agnostic sincerity. “I’m proud of you, that you can witness like that.” Rene Guen*n says those who claim agnosticism are simply “glorying in their own ignorance”.

Twenty-six weeks left.

we will bury you (Khrushchev)

rabbahu ashku ba’eedi kullama / walla zamanun zidtu minhu shakati