Random Thought : The Tin Man

I often over analyse myself in order to make sure I never become my father. It’s been my worse fear since I was old enough to understand pain. His selfish ways along with his cold indifference towards anyone else’s feelings made me so scared. My obsession on it has now become a day to day thing, which most people who are close to me have understood. The fear always lingers at the pit of my stomach, will I be like him? Will I hurt people? Will I be so ungrateful and horrid? The voices in my head question every action. A couple of weeks ago, I was sure I had walked the same hypocritical path as him. I was so sure I had become him. I was shattered that my worse fear had finally come true.

Although I look like him, an exact copy according to some, I have come to realise that, Alhamdulillah I have more of my mother in me as substance. Yes I am selfish, impatient, sarcastic, tiring, horrible at times and ungrateful. But I can love others more than myself and I know there are those who I would do anything for, just to keep them happy. I know I would do whatever it takes to take care of them. This of course leads to me getting hurt time and time again, and as much as I hate that, I can’t help but feel maybe all that heartache is worth not being the tin man.

If I can, alhamdulillah, love wholeheartedly and be hurt again and again, then I am already mountains away from the emotionally constipated state of my father. If I can, alhamdulillah, push aside my own wants and needs to give someone else what they want, then I am eons away from my father. If I can, alhamdulillah, hurt so much but only cry in front of my Lord, and if I can, alhamdulillah be treated badly and still love them then I am not my father. I am my mother.

I don’t really think it’s a good thing to be this way, to be used and discarded. To feel love towards those who carelessly hurt you. To be betrayed by those you trusted. To still not be able to hate those who treat you like you are nothing. It’s doesn’t seem good at all. But somehow the fact that it means I am not him, makes it seem not so bad. I know I suppress whatever I have of him inside me, and I know I can channel it if I need to. But lately I’ve come to know that it hurts to. It hurts to be heartless as he is. It hurts to be cold, indifferent and curt, even to those who deserve it. I don’t want to be. Could all those years of trying not to be, and praying for salvation caused me to grow a heart?

I can’t help but feel that perhaps Allah (swt) has finally given me a better heart. A vulnerable heart, and yet far better than that which I might have had before.

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Random Thoughts

I was just pondering on why it is that when a spouse commits zina, the victim always feels like it was their fault. It’s not logical, we know it, they know it and yet most do it. If there are problems in a marriage then the right thing to do is talk about it like adults, seek help, and if all else fails consider separation or divorce, so why is committing zina seen as a unavoidable outcome of a troubled marriage. If an individual committed zina then it’s their fault, how is the wife or husband to be blamed? They might not have paid attention or been able to satisfy them but surely zina can not be justified can it??

Why is it that at the end of the day the victim feels that it was some sort of unavoidable situation? Like maybe if they did/didn’t do something, said or didn’t say something, maybe if they looked better, maybe if they dressed differently, things would not have happened the way they did. Is it really their fault that their spouse committed zina? I some how find it hard to believe that a morally sound wife or husband who loves for the sake of Allah is at fault if their spouse unfortunately committed zina.

There surely must be some sort of root cause to this deep seeded line of thinking. It’s probably like fairytales which brainwash you with talk of happy endings in unions, you believe (atleast I did) until you grow up and realize happy endings are created by compromise, patience, love, forgiveness and a lot of hard work. They also successfully imply that only a man can save a women from an ill fated curse coz essentially we just look pretty. Stepping away from my original point, how is it that Islam doesn’t promote equality when we have been given the right to work, own, demand with out burdening us too much, but Disney shows us that we should stay locked in a tower till the brave prince comes to save us?

Why does this world not make sense sometimes?!…

Peace!