Chatsworth is an Indian township near Durban which has been devastated in recent years by 'sugars' - a highly addictive cut of heroin,

Set up during apartheid inthe 1960s, Chatsworth is an Indian township
near Durban which has been devastated in recent years by 'sugars' - a
highly addictive cut of heroin, mixed with rat poison to prevent blood
clots and any other powdered household goods - available to bulk it up
and make it cheap.
The withdrawals are agonising.
Sugars came to Chatsworth with addicted minibus taxi drivers from
Durban and cut through the youth like wildfire.
Those addicts whose families have any possessions of value steal from
their families, those who don't con and beg in car parks and steal
from shops.
Heroin addictions are notoriously difficult to treat, and the figure
quoted for long-term recovery is below 10%.
But in Chatsworth Sam Pillay, founder of the Anti-Drug Forum, thinks
he has come up with a combination of detox drugs and family therapy
rehabilitation which he wants the world to know about.
It's early days but he estimates that so far their success rate is in
the region of 60 - 80%.
Chervon Chetty, who is from a South African family of Indian origin
with roots in Durban, visitsChatsworth to see the impact of 'sugars',
and hear about the chance for change in addicts' lives.

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You Are Not Alone:

Sometimes it seems like every person in this world of seven billion
souls is living a quarantined, lonelyexperience. You take the subway
to work and everyone reads her own novel, or rests his head against
the seat, not meeting anyone else's eyes. Each person is surrounded by
an invisible sphere of seclusion. Or you walk down a crowded downtown
street, with thousands of people intent on their own lives and
errands, disengaged from all around them…
Every one of us is the center of our own universe,living within our
own skulls, constrained by the limitations of our senses. None of us
can ever truly know the inner thoughts and feelings of another. This
awareness can be isolating and depressing.
But let me give you a different perspective:
First, there is Allah. He knows the innermost hopes and fears of each
of us. He is with us, watching us, protecting us and guiding us at all
times. He loves us and wants good for us. So in a very real sense,
none of us is alone. Allah is the unifying factor, the Master of all,
the One who created a universe that functions in harmony and symmetry;
even the chaos of nature is part of a greater pattern, and serves
Allah in its way.
In fact, check this out: Abu Huraira narrated, "The Prophet said, "If
Allah loves a person, He calls Gabriel saying, 'Allah loves so and-so;
O Gabriel! Love him.' Gabriel would love him and make an announcement
amongst the inhabitants of the Heaven. 'Allah loves so-and-so,
therefore you should love him also,' and so all the inhabitantsof the
Heaven would lovehim, and then he is granted the pleasure of the
people on the earth."
(Sahih Al-Bukhari, Volume 4, Book 54, Hadith 431)
Wow, subhanAllah. That is a lot of love being directed your way!
That's hardly congruous with the notion of an isolated existence.
Second, there is our noble Prophet Muhammad (pbuh). Regardless of our
nationalities, our schools ofthought or "sects", we are united in
honoring and revering him. We study his life, repeat his words, and
send blessings on him. We live our lives by his teachings. We look up
to him and love him as we love ourselves.
Third, there is our great deen of Islam. At any givenmoment, at this
very second, there are Muslims in the world standing shoulder to
shoulder in prayer, all facing the same location on the earth.
Islamhas brought us together in a unique and unprecedented global
brotherhood and sisterhood. Though we may be strangers to each other
in a physical sense, spiritually we are connected. We care about each
other, we feel each other's joys and fears.
Yes, we are biological beings, each living within our own limited
bodies. When you or I think, no other human hears us. When you eat, no
one else tastes it. When your head hurts, no one else feels the pain.
When you harbor private aspirations and terrors, no one else feels the
beating of your heart.
But Allah is with you, my brother, my sister. Allah hears. Allah is
always readyto comfort you, respond to your prayers, and bless youwith
His grace.
And the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) struggled so hard for you. Yes of
course, he fought foryou! You are a part of his Ummah. You are one of
his flock. His mission was for you as much as anyone else. On the Day
of Judgment he will intercedefor his Ummah; he will claim us, and
struggle for us just as he did in his earthly life.
Lastly, we Muslims all sharea spiritual bond, a commonunderstanding of
the world. We are family (even if some of us don't act like it).
When the loneliness of life feels heavy on your back, remember that
the isolation of human existence is an illusion. Youare not alone. You
are surrounded by guidance, blessings, and caring. You are loved, even
when you do not see it. You are not alone.

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A dad is someone who wants to keep you from making mistakes

What Is A Dad?
A dad is someone who
wants to catch you before you fall
but instead picks you up,
brushes you off,
... and lets you try again.
A dad is someone who
wants to keep you from making mistakes
but instead lets you find your own way,
even though his heart breaks in silence
when you get hurt.
A dad is someone who
holds you when you cry,
scolds you when you breakthe rules,
shines with pride when you succeed,
and has faith in you even when you fail..See More
MOTHER
Somebody said that a child is carried in its mother's womb for nine months.
Somebody does not know that a child is carried in its mother's heart forever.
Somebody said it takes about six weeks to get back to normal after
you'vehad a baby....
Somebody doesn't know that once you're a mother, normal is history.
Somebody said you learn how to be a mother by instinct.
Somebody never took a three-year-old shopping.
Somebody said being a mother is boring.
Somebody never rode in a car driven by a teenager with a driver's permit.
Somebody said if you're a"good" mother, your child will "turn out good."
Somebody thinks a child comes with directions and a guarantee.
Somebody said "good" mothers never raise their voices.
Somebody never came out the back door just in time to see her child
hit a golf ball through the neighbor'skitchen window.
Somebody said you don't need an education to be a mother.
Somebody never helped a fourth grader with his math.
Somebody said you can't love the fifth child as much as you love the first.
Somebody doesn't have five children.
Somebody said a mother can find all the answers to her child-rearing
questions in the books.
Somebody never had a child stuff beans up his nose.
Somebody said the hardestpart of being a mother is labor and delivery.
Somebody never watched her "baby" get on the bus for the first day of
kindergarten.
Somebody said a mother can do her job with her eyes closed and one
hand tied behind her back.
Somebody never organizedseven giggling Brownies tosell cookies.
Somebody said a mother can stop worrying after herchild gets married.
Somebody doesn't know that marriage adds a new son or daughter-in-law
to a mother's heartstrings.
Somebody said a mother's job is done when her last child leaves home.
Somebody never had grandchildren.
Somebody said your mother knows you love her, so you don't need to tell her.
Somebody isn't a mother.

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Moving Beyond Blame

I wrote the piece above over ten years ago. It has taken me almost
these entire ten years to learn to forgive myself. I still sometimes
see someone on the street who looks like Joe, and I have a moment of
excitement, then I remember that he is gone. But I don't blame myself
anymore. I made a mistake, but I'm not responsible for Joe putting a
needle in his arm. With everything he had to live for, he had no
excuse. If having a family, friends and freedom wasn't enough of a joy
for him, then it's unlikely that anything I said would havemade a
difference.
I don't want to blame Joe either. He lost the battle against his
internal demons, and that's enoughfor me to say. I still love him. I
guess I've gotten beyond blame, to a place of understanding or
acceptance. I'm able to think of Joe with gratitude,and with no
bitterness or regret to color it. I originally titled this piece,
"Trying to Remember the Good Times", but if I had written it today I
might callit, "Remembering a Kind Soul."
That's the miracle and glory of the human heart. That is one of the
countlessblessings of Allah. He gives us hearts that heal, and spirits
that forgive, and Time, our dear friend, who carries away all wounds
in the gentle sweep of its current.
"Allah said: 'Sons of Adam inveigh against [the vicissitudes of]
Time,but I am Time, in My hand is the night and theday.'" (hadith
qudsi, agreed upon)
If Allah is Time, and Allah isAr-Rahman ir-Raheem (TheMerciful and
Mercy-Giving), then time is a mercy and ablessing. The passage of
time is a balm and a cure.
I try to do better now in reaching out to anyone I care about who
might be in pain. I try to express something about the deen to the
non-Muslims in my life. I don't preach, but I share my enthusiasm for
Islam in small ways, and I offer a perspective that includes Allah.
If I could go back, what would I do differently? I have come to
realize that the question serves no purpose. The Polk Street festival
is a memory, a day in history, an image on a fading photo. Agonizing
over it does not help.
A better question is, what will I do differently today? What will I do
differently tomorrow, when the California sun comes up blazing, and
the world is new again, and I am blessed beyond belief with another
opportunity to redeem my soul, and to love my family and friends,and
to prostrate to Allah, and to change the world? What will I do
differently then?
That's all that matters.
"And put your trust in Him Who lives and dies not; and celebrate His
praise; and enough is He to be acquainted with the faults of His
servants." – Quran, 25:58/

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