The lady of the lake

At Belur we discover that Bishtama Kere is a sanctuary for humans and
birds as well
It was one of those lethargic days when you are in no mood to explore
and the mind isaching to kill time. I was in my favourite Malenadu
region in Karnataka and was walking beside a lake near Belur town. A
small mandapam was almost buried in the water, but my attention was
drawn toa flock of cormorants perched on a rock in the lake.
According to the locals, lakes in this region were considered sacred
as they hid several treasures in their depths. In the past, when the
Hoysalas were attackedby different invaders, itis believed that
important sculptures and idols from the temples and even jewellery was
thrown inside the lake to save the treasures from invaders.
I wondered if this lake around me too had its little secret. Chinna, a
local whom I had befriended, told me its name, Bishtama Kere, and
narrated a tragic tale around it. The lake,he said, was named after
Bishtama, a woman who sacrificed herself by drowning in the waters
when she was pregnant. The landhad been barren for many years and
locals believe that her sacrifice brought the rains and fertility back
to the village.
Chinna insisted that herspirit still remained in the waters and spoke
to the people. He got all excited as he added that people used to
throw jewellery into the lake before a wedding so that they were
blessed by Bishtama and in the morning, the jewellery would still be
intact, floating on the waters. I looked at him rather incredulously
and asked when this had happened last in the village. Chinna shrugged
and safely answered that he did not remember.
There's always an element of surprise in every trip. Many a time,I
realised that a traveller's tale had taken me to the most nondescript
place that Ihad often taken for granted. Temples and forts may have
spun yarns of history, but a simple, humble lake had its own story to
tellas well.
A loud, ashy prinia broke my reverie. Chinna had already moved on,
talking to some other villagers. I was suddenly distracted by a flock
of night herons that were breeding and a family of bronze-winged
jacanas. I later learnt that it was the father jacana that brought up
the chicks up, as the mother was nowhere in the picture.
The father was foraging for food with his chicks. Suddenly, the chicks
walked awaywithout heeding the parent's advice and for the next
several minutes, I could hear the father pleading and calling out to
his adventurous chicks. I could not see the chicksfor a while, but
suddenly they reappeared. I was fascinated to watch an animated
conversation between them. Bobbing their heads back and forth in a
rhythmic fashion, they seemed to be nodding and shaking their heads,
probably havinga little argument or narrating their experiences.
Suddenly one of the chicks decided to end the discussion by thrusting
its head under the father's wing. It got under the parent's belly and
shoved him with its beak, asking tobe picked up. As the family spent
the evening at the lake, I could not help but think of how a lake that
could take a life could also nurture it.

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And Allah Knows the Best!

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Published by :->
M NajimudeeN Bsc- INDIA

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Part 3 - Moons Peak [FINISHED]- Welcome Home (chapter 3)

I MARCHED UP THE WOODEN STEPS leaving that obnoxious boy far behind me.
Seriously, who was that guy anyway? Probably some hired help my dad
had gotten in order to retire at an early age. He sure looked like
labored help, with all the dirt he carried.
I shook my thoughts aside and studied the farmhouse. The porch ran
around the whole house, with a swinging seat that was perched out in
the front, and if you stared out toward the eastside of Denvers Drove.
You could spot Point Lakefrom there.
The tarnished wood underneath my high heels protested as I crossed
over the threshold and into the foyer.
It was just how I remembered: Small, musty, and cheap. I wrinkled my nose.
The family room sat on my right, while the kitchen was to my left.
Further down the hall a staircase wound up to the bedrooms, along with
the bathroom and toilet.
It was a four-bedroom cottage, still very small, considering my
grandparent's mansion in Manhattan housed fifteen rooms with four
bathrooms and two en-suites—one in mine—and the other in my
grandparents room.
Plus, their hotel apartment they kept for when I turned eighteen.
Isighed. I was definitely visiting.
"Willow...? Is that you?"
I was startled out of my thoughts when I heard a familiar voice address me.
I turned to the husky female voice coming from the family area. It was
Mrs. Heins, or as I used to call her 'Aunt Retha'. My eyes settled
onher tiny frame, and I tried my hardest to hide the shock on my face,
after noticing she was bound to a wheelchair.
She looked like she had lost a lot of weight—almost to the point to
where her bones were jarring out of her clothes.Though she was always
thin—looking at her now—she'd looked almost anorexic. Her curlyblack
hair cropped at herjaw line, as her piercing light green eyes stared
atme attentively.
Her olive skin was what made her look young, but whatever had taken
her to this road, made her seem fragile. Most of where Satchel got his
looks from was his mother.
She'd always been a beautiful role model to me.
"Aunt—I mean, Mrs. Heins?" I caught my tongue because I wasn't sure if
it was appropriateto call her Aunt anymore.
She nodded with a big smile and wheeled herself a little closer.
Dipping to give her a peck on her cheek, she pulled me into a tight bear hug.
Had she been anyone else? I would've squirmed and pushed myway out of
it, and protested about having to crinkle up my Valentino, but this
was Satchel's mom.
In fact, I'd remembered when I was little, I used to dream up that she
wasmy real mom, and Satcheland I would claim we were brother and
sister.
She'd always been a woman I looked up to, soI'd adopted her as my own
Aunt. I'd wondered how she ended up in a wheelchair. Her eyes looked
me over as if she were struggling to see the Willow she once
remembered. Quite frankly, that Willow had sailed her ship along time
ago.
"Wow, you've grown up so much! I hardly recognize you with that blonde
in your hair," she said in that husky voice of hers, marveling at my
appearance.
I smiled, flattening my three hundred dollar dye job down and flicking
it back over my shoulders. Iswept my bangs to the side.
Biting my lips, I nodded."Yeah, I guess I grew out of that brunette
phase a long time ago," I admitted, remembering back to when Aretha
had last seen me.
I used to have mousy brunette hair that was sothin; it was impossible
to stay in a French braid. I guess I still had that mousy kind of
hair, just blonde. Her smile never wavered, rubbing my arms
endearingly.
"Well, it's good to see you. I'd show you to yourroom, but you don't
needhelp with that do you?"
I shook my head. "I'm sure I can find it." I smiled as she wheeled
away, squeezing my hand before she left.
Sighing, I cast my eyes upto the winding staircase. Just visiting, I
chanted in my head. I mounted the stairs, cringing at the creaking
sounds as I did, and turned into the first room that sat to the left
from the top of the stairs.
The door squeaked as I opened it, and I was met with a familiarity I
thought I'd left behind. My old room was just the way I had left it.
A single bed to the right, a window seat and a dresser drawer that
looked like it had lived through centuries of storms. The room had
that musty smell again, and the colors of my comforters were a white
yellow: Plain, and boring.
It looked like vomit. I grimaced. Just think of it as a field trip.
You'll be out of here before you know it, and then home sweet home.
I whipped my head around to the sound of a big thump. I glared whenI
saw that boy again. He'd just dumped my bags at the doorway like they
were some cheap garbage! I couldn't stand for that...
My lips curled back, and my eyes burned holes into his cowboy hat.
"What the hell! You just threw Louis Vuitton on the floor?!" I
exclaimed, biting back a string of curses.
His stupid cowboy hat still hid his face, so I had nothing to stare at
besides his chest. It wasn't a bad sight either;with his broad
shoulders and his olive tanned skin.
He shrugged. "Who and whatever Louis is, I'm sure he doesn't mind the
floor," he said in a bored tone.
He was leaning on the doorframe with a smirk on his face. Ugh! He was
impossible. I marched over to him and retrievedmy luggage, in an
attempt to save them from him mistreating them any further.
"Louis is not something you just chuck on the ground! Ugh! What would
you know? You live on a farm!" I said in disgust, swiping away any
visible dirt that it may have conjured from the trip it took from the
carriage to my room.
He tilted his head, amusement littering his lips. "I don't know
what'smore entertaining: You naming your bag, or the fact that you
have blondehair." He scoffed.
I narrowed my eyes at him. Was he laughing at me?
"Are you mocking me?" I demanded of him, fistingmy hand up in a tight
balland scowled.
He shook his head. "Just that my mom is right. Youreally have changed."
I glared, unzipping one of my travel bags for some refreshing spray to
kill the musty smell. "And how would you know that? You don't know
anything about me!" I said bitterly.
"Nope. Not anymore…it seems," he muttered in a voice that was barely
audible. I noticed the wistful note in his voice.
He tipped his hat with hisright hand and a smile tugged as his lips
and then turned on his heels.
"Welcome home, Willy." He bid his farewell and I froze.
Only one person called me that, and that was Satchel. I watched his
retreating figure disappear down the stairs and stood there fora
moment lost in thought.
That was Satchel? I struggled to see any resemblance. Sure he hadthe
same color skin, and the chocolate brown colored hair, but he'd grown
it out.
I'd remembered him being so little, that I was practically taller than
himand I was five. He was seven back then. He was almost six foot now,
and a body fit for a man.
Wow, he'd really grown out of the boy I once knew. I guess I wasn't
theonly one who changed.

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And Allah Knows the Best!

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Published by :->
M NajimudeeN Bsc- INDIA

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

Ruling on one who thinks that sihr is OK so long as it does not cause any problems

What do you think abouta man who used ruqyah,but he did not think
thatit helped him, so he turned from that to sihr (magic, witchcraft),
and he says, I think that it is OK so long as it does not cause any
problems?
Praise be to Allaah.
Sihr is evil and is kufr. If a sick person is not cured by reading
(Qur'aan and du'aa's), then we should note that medicine does not
guarantee a cure either, because not every treatment produces the
desired result. Allaah may delay the healing for a long time, or the
person may die from thissickness. It is not a condition of treatment
that the person should be healed. If a person is treated by reading
Qur'aan and does not recover, that is not an excuse for turning to
sihr, because we are commanded to take the permissible means
prescribed in sharee'ah, and we are forbidden touse haraam means. The
Prophet (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) said, "O slavesof
Allaah, seek treatmentbut do not seek treatment with that which has
been forbidden to you." And itwas narrated that he (peace and
blessings of Allaah be upon him) said: "Allaah does not make your
healing in that which He has forbidden to you."
All things are in the handof Allaah, may He be glorified. He is the
One Who heals whomsoever He wills, and He decrees sickness and death
for whomsoever He wills, as He says (interpretation of the meanings):
"And if Allaah touches you with harm, none canremove it but He, and if
He touches you with good, then He is Able to do all things" [al-An'aam
6:17]
"And if Allaah touches you with harm, there is none who can remove it
but He; and if He intends any good for you, there is none who can
repel His Favour which He causes it to reach whomsoever of His slaves
He wills. And He is the Oft-Forgiving, the Most Merciful [Yoonus
10:107]
So the Muslim must be patient and seek rewardwith Allaah. He must
limit himself to the means that Allaah has permitted, and beware of
that which Allaah has forbidden, whilst also believing that the decree
of Allaah is beneficial and that His command cannot be put back, as
Allaah says (interpretation of the meanings):
"Verily, His Command, when He intends a thing,is only that He says to
it, 'Be!' and it is! [Yaa-Seen 36:82]
"And you cannot will unless (it be) that Allaah wills the Lord of the
'Aalameen (mankind, jinn and all that exists) [al-Takweer 81:29]
And there are many similar aayaat.

Why do we yawn in Ramadaan when the devils have been chained up? And is the transmission of television pictures haraam?

It is well known that the devils are chained up in Ramadaan and that
yawning comes from theShaytaan, so why do we yawn in Ramadaan?
And it is known that making images of human beings is haraam, so is
the transmission of television pictures regarded as haraam?.
Praise be to Allaah.
Al-Bukhaari (6226) and Muslim (2994) narrated from Abu Hurayrah (may
Allaah be pleased with him) that the Prophet (peace and blessings of
Allaah be upon him) said: "Allaah likes sneezing and dislikes yawning,
so if one of you sneezes and praises Allaah (by saying Al-hamdu
Lillaah), it is a duty upon every Muslim who hears him to say to him,
Yarhamuk Allaah (may Allaah have mercy on you). With regard to
yawning, it is from the Shaytaan so if one of you feels like yawning,
let him suppress it as much as he can, for if one of you yawns the
Shaytaan laughs at him.
Concerning the meaningof that, it was said that the Shaytaan likes to
seea person yawning because it makes him look different and so he
laughs at him. It does not mean that the Shaytaan is the one whomakes
him yawn. And it was said that yawning isattributed to the Shaytaan
because yawning comes from fullness of the stomach, which generates
laziness, which happens under the influence of the Shaytaan.
Al-Nawawi(may Allaah have mercy on him) said: Yawning is attributed to
the Shaytaan because it promotes whims and desires, because it stems
from heaviness of the body, excessive relaxation and fullness of the
stomach. So what is meant is a warning against the thing that leads to
that, which is eating too much.
Al-Manaawi (may Allaah have mercy on him) said:It is attributed to him
because he is the one who calls for giving the self its share of
desires. What is meant here is to warn against the things that lead to
that, which is eating too much and eating one's fill, which makes the
body feel too heavy and tired to do acts of worship.
There should be no confusion stemming from the fact that peopleyawn
during Ramadaan even though the devils are chained up at that time,
because what is meant by saying that it isfrom the Shaytaan is that he
likes it. The fact that he likes it and approves of it does not mean
that he is not chained, rather that could happen even if he was
chained.
Based on the view that this is caused by the influence of the
Shaytaan, either directly or indirectly, it was said that the ones who
are chained up during Ramadaan are the maarids among the devils (i.e.,
the strong evil ones) only, and that others remain as they are, so
yawning may be caused by those who arenot chained up.
But based on the view that what is meant by the chaining up of the
devils is that their influence on the believers is less during that
month than in othermonths, perhaps yawning results from thelittle
influence that they are still able to have during Ramadaan.