Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Top Five Regrets

Some wisdom from people who had nothing to lose any more……

Top Five Regrets

For many years I worked in palliative care. My patients were those who had gone home to die. Some incredibly special times were shared. I was with them for the last three to twelve weeks of their lives.
People grow a lot when they are faced with their own mortality. I learned never to underestimate someone's capacity for growth. Some changes were phenomenal. Each experienced a variety of emotions, as expected, denial, fear, anger, remorse, more denial and eventually acceptance. Every single patient found their peace before they departed though, every one of them.
When questioned about any regrets they had or anything they would do differently, common themes surfaced again and again. Here are the most common five:

1. I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me
This was the most common regret of all. When people realize that their life is almost over and look back clearly on it, it is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled. Most people have had not honored even a half of their dreams and had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made.
It is very important to try and honor at least some of your dreams along the way. From the moment that you lose your health, it is too late. Health brings a freedom very few realize, until they no longer have it.

2. I wish I didn't work so hard
This came from every male patient that I nursed. They missed their children's youth and their partner's companionship. Women also spoke of this regret. But as most were from an older generation, many of the female patients had not been breadwinners. All of the men I nursed deeply regretted spending so much of their lives on the treadmill of a work existence.
By simplifying your lifestyle and making conscious choices along the way, it is possible to not need the income that you think you do. And by creating more space in your life, you become happier and more open to new opportunities, ones more suited to your new lifestyle.

3. I wish I'd had the courage to express my feelings
Many people suppressed their feelings in order to keep peace with others. As a result, they settled for a mediocre existence and never became who they were truly capable of becoming. Many developed illnesses relating to the bitterness and resentment they carried as a result.
We cannot control the reactions of others. However, although people may initially react when you change the way you are by speaking honestly, in the end it raises the relationship to a whole new and healthier level. Either that or it releases the unhealthy relationship from your life. Either way, you win.

4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends
Often they would not truly realize the full benefits of old friends until their dying weeks and it was not always possible to track them down. Many had become so caught up in their own lives that they had let golden friendships slip by over the years. There were many deep regrets about not giving friendships the time and effort that they deserved. Everyone misses their friends when they are dying.
It is common for anyone in a busy lifestyle to let friendships slip. But when you are faced with your approaching death, the physical details of life fall away. People do want to get their financial affairs in order if possible. But it is not money or status that holds the true importance for them. They want to get things in order more for the benefit of those they love. Usually though, they are too ill and weary to ever manage this task. It is all comes down to love and relationships in the end. That is all that remains in the final weeks, love and relationships.

5. I wish that I had let myself be happier
This is a surprisingly common one. Many did not realize until the end that happiness is a choice. They had stayed stuck in old patterns and habits. The so-called 'comfort' of familiarity overflowed into their emotions, as well as their physical lives. Fear of change had them pretending to others, and to their selves, that they were content. When deep within, they longed to laugh properly and have silliness in their life again.
When you are on your deathbed, what others think of you is a long way from your mind. How wonderful to be able to let go and smile again, long before you are dying.

Life is a choice. It is YOUR life. Choose consciously, choose wisely, choose honestly. Choose happiness.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Long story.. but worth the read

This is a story about a man named Rashed. He tells his story as follows...

I was not more than thirty years old when my wife gave birth to my first child. I still remember that night.

I had stayed out all night long with my friends, as was my habit. It was a night filled with useless talk, and worse, with backbiting, gossiping, and making fun of people. I was mostly the one who made people laugh; I would mock others and my friends would laugh and laugh. I remember on that night that I'd made them laugh a lot. I had an amazing ability to imitate others – I could change the sound of my voice until I sounded exactly like the person I was mocking. No one was safe from my biting mockery, even my friends; some people started avoiding me just to be safe from my tongue. I remember on that night, I had made fun of a blind man who I'd seen begging in the market. What was worse, I had put my foot out in front him – he tripped and fell, and started turning his head around, not knowing what to say.

I went back to my house, late as usual, and I found my wife waiting for me. She was in a terrible state, and said in a quivering voice, "Rashed... where were you?"

"Where would I be, on Mars?" I said sarcastically, "With my friends of course."

She was visibly exhausted, and holding back tears, she said, "Rashed, I'm so tired. It seems the baby is going to come soon." A silent tear fell on her cheek.

I felt that I had neglected my wife. I should have taken care of her and not stayed out so much all those nights... especially since she was in her ninth month. I quickly took her to the hospital; she went into the delivery room, and suffered through long hours of pain.

I waited patiently for her to give birth… but her delivery was difficult, and I waited a long time until I got tired. So I went home and left my phone number with the hospital so they could call with the good news. An hour later, they called me to congratulate me on the birth of Salem. I went to the hospital immediately. As soon as they saw me, they asked me to go see the doctor who had overlooked my wife's delivery.
"What doctor?" I cried out, "I just want to see my son Salem!"

"First go see the doctor," they said.

I went to the doctor, and she started talking to me about trials, and about being satisfied with Allah's decree. Then she said, "Your son has a serious deformity in his eyes, and it seems that he has no vision." I lowered my head while I fought back tears... I remembered that blind man begging in the market who I'd tripped and made others laugh at.

Subhan Allah, you get what you give! I stayed brooding quietly for a while... I didn't know what to say. Then I remembered by wife and son. I thanked the doctor for her kindness, and went to go see my wife. My wife wasn't sad. She believed in the decree of Allah... she was content... How often had she advised me to stop mocking people! "Don't backbite people," she always used to repeat... We left the hospital, and Salem came with us.

In reality, I didn't pay much attention to him. I pretended that he wasn't in the house with us. When he started crying loudly, I'd escape to the living room to sleep there. My wife took good care of him, and loved him a lot. As for myself, I didn't hate him, but I couldn't love him either.

Salem grew. He started to crawl, and had a strange way of crawling. When he was almost one year old, he started trying to walk, and we discovered that he was crippled. I felt like he was an even greater burden on me. After him, my wife gave birth to Umar and Khaled. The years passed, and Salem grew, and his brothers grew. I never liked to sit at home, I was always out with my friends... in reality, I was like a plaything at their disposal [entertaining them whenever they wanted].

My wife never gave up on my reform. She always made Du'aa for my guidance. She never got angry with my reckless behavior, but she would get really sad if she saw me neglecting Salem and paying attention to the rest of his brothers. Salem grew, and my worries grew with him. I didn't mind when my wife asked to enroll him in a special school for the handicapped.

I didn't really feel the passing of the years. My days were all the same. Work and sleep and food and staying out with friends. One Friday, I woke up at 11 am. This was early for me. I was invited to a gathering, so I got dressed and perfumed, and was about to go out. I passed by our living room, and was startled by the sight of Salem – he was sobbing! This was the first time I had noticed Salem crying since he was a baby. Ten years had passed, and I hadn't paid attention to him. I tried to ignore him now, but I couldn't take it... I heard him calling out to his mother while I was in the room. I turned towards him, and went closer. "Salem! Why are you crying?" I asked.

When he heard my voice, he stopped crying. Then when he realized how close I was, he started feeling around him with his small hands. What was wrong with him? I discovered that he was trying to move away from me! It was as if he was saying, "Now, you've decided to notice me? Where have you been for the last ten years?" I followed him... he had gone into his room. At first, he refused to tell me why he'd been crying. I tried to be gentle with him... Salem started to tell me why he'd been crying, while I listened and trembled.

Do you know what the reason was?! His brother Umar, the one who used to take him to the masjid, was late. And because it was Jumu'ah prayer, Salem was afraid he wouldn't find a place in the first row. He called out to Umar... and he called out to his mother... but nobody answered, so he cried. I sat there looking at the tears flowing from his blind eyes. I couldn't bear the rest of his words. I put my hand over his mouth and said, "Is this why you were crying, Salem!"

"Yes," he said.

I forgot about my friends, I forgot about the gathering, and I said, "Don't be sad, Salem. Do you know who's going to take you to the masjid today?"

"Umar, of course," he said, "... but he's always late."

"No," I said, "I'm going to take you."

Salem was shocked... he couldn't believe it. He thought I was mocking him. His tears came and he started crying. I wiped his tears with my hand and then took hold of his hand. I wanted to take him to the masjid by car. He refused and said, "The masjid is near... I want to walk there." Yes, by Allah, he said this to me.

I couldn't remember when was the last time I had entered the masjid , but it was the first time I felt fear and regret for what I'd neglected in the long years that had passed. The masjid was filled with worshippers, but I still found a place for Salem in the first row. We listened to the Jumu'ah khutbah together, and he prayed next to me. But really, I was the one praying next to him.

After the prayer, Salem asked me for a Qura'an. I was surprised! How was he going to read when he was blind? I almost ignored his request, but I decided to humor him out of fear of hurting his feelings. I passed him a Qura'an. He asked me to open the Qura'an to Surat al-Kahf. I started flipping through the pages and looking through the index until I found it. He took the Qura'an from me, put it in front of him, and started reading the Surah... with his eyes closed... Ya Allah! He had the whole Surah memorized.

I was ashamed of myself. I picked up a Qura'an... I felt my limbs tremble... I read and I read. I asked Allah to forgive me and to guide me. I couldn't take it... I started crying like a child. There were still some people in the masjid praying sunnah... I was embarrassed by their presence, so I tried to hold my tears. My crying turned into whimpering and long, sobbing breaths. The only thing I felt was a small hand reaching out to my face, and then wiping the tears away. It was Salem! I pulled him to my chest... I looked at him. I said to myself... you're not the blind one, but I am, for having drifted after immoral people who were pulling me to hellfire. We went back home. My wife was extremely worried about Salem, but her worry turned into tears [of joy] when she found out I had prayed Jumu'ah with Salem.

From that day on, I never missed the congregational prayer in the masjid. I left my bad friends... and I made righteous friends among people I met at the masjid. I tasted the sweetness of Iman with them. I learned things from them that distracted me from this world. I never missed out on gatherings of remembrance [halaqas], or on the witr prayer. I recited the entire Qura'an, several times, in one month. I moistened my tongue with the remembrance of Allah, that He might forgive my backbiting and mocking of the people. I felt closer to my family. The looks of fear and pity that had occupied my wife's eyes disappeared. A smile now never parted from the face of my son Salem. Anyone who saw him would have felt that he owned the world and everything in it. I praised and thanked Allah a lot for His blessings.

One day, my righteous friends decided to go to a far away location for da'wah. I hesitated about going. I prayed istikharah, and consulted with my wife. I thought she would refuse... but the opposite happened! She was extremely happy, and even encouraged me... because in the past, she had seen me traveling without consulting her, for the purpose of sin and evil. I went to Salem, and told him I would be traveling. With tears, he wrapped me up in his small arms...

I was away from home for three and a half months. In that period, whenever I got a chance, I called my wife and talked to my children. I missed them so much... and oh, how I missed Salem! I wanted to hear his voice... he was the only one who hadn't talked to me since I'd traveled. He was either at school or at the masjid whenever I called them.Whenever I would tell my wife how much I missed him, she would laugh happily, joyfully, except for the last time I called her. I didn't hear her expected laugh. Her voice changed. I said to her, "Give my Salaam to Salem," and she said, "Insha'Allah," and was quiet.

At last, I went back home. I knocked on the door. I hoped that it was Salem who would open up for me, but was surprised to find my son Khaled, who was not more than four years old. I picked him up in my arms while he squealed, "Baba! Baba!" I don't know why my heart tensed when I entered the house.

I sought refuge in Allah from the accursed Shaytaan... I approached my wife... her face was different. As if she was pretending to be happy. I inspected her closely then said, "What's wrong with you?" "Nothing," she said. Suddenly, I remembered Salem. "Where's Salem?" I asked. She lowered her head. She didn't answer. Hot tears fell on her cheeks.

"Salem! Where's Salem?" I cried out.

At that moment, I only heard the sound of my son Khaled talking in his own way, saying, "Baba... Thalem went to pawadise... with Allah..."

My wife couldn't take it. She broke down crying. She almost fell to the floor, and left the room. Later, I found out that Salem had contracted a fever two weeks before I'd returned, so my wife took him to the hospital... the fever got more and more severe, and didn't leave him... until his soul left his body...

And if this earth closes in on you in spite of its vastness, and your soul closes is on you because of what it's carrying… call out, "Oh Allah!" If solutions run out, and paths are constricted, and ropes are cut off, and your hopes are no more… call out, "Oh Allah." Allah wished to guide Salem's father on the hands of Salem, before Salem's death.

How merciful is Allah! Indeed

Friday, February 11, 2011

Justice for Aafia Coalition

As-Salaamu-Alaikum & Jummah Mubarak!

Most of us are already aware that Aafia Siddiqui was sentenced to 86 years in prison, after having already spent seven and a half years detained and abused in US custody. We have all felt a surge of emotions - we are united in our outrage and anger, both shocked and appalled, heartbroken and overwhelmed with tears.

The emotion we feel is justified, but Allah (swt) has honoured her and raised her rank through the tests she had endured. When we weep for Aafia we should be also weeping over ourselves'. We should be crying over whether we have an excuse before Allah, whether we have done anything or whether the little we've done has been sufficient.

We should be crying over the day she was sentenced when:

Her blood brother who was present in court was not even allowed to meet her so that he could embrace her one last time.

They took away all of her privileges: even the single scarf she would wear on her head; and the veil she used to cover her face.

Not only that; her Qura'an which she used to hold against her chest and feel some relief-they took that from her as well.

In the end, she said that, "I died in that very moment when my tiny baby soul was snatched from me, when my children were separated from me. That death was nothing when for the first time my clothes were ripped and I was brutally dishonoured.The Afghans didn't even do what America has done."

She stood in the end and said, when even I was crying and saying to my mother that "Mother, they have even taken my Qura'an. What will I hug and find solace in?" Then my mother reassured me that "Child, why do you worry? Allah (swt) made you a Hafidhah of the Qura'an for this very reason. Let them steal as many Qura'ans as they can. Allah (swt) is closer to you than your jugular vein.


1. Estimates for an appeal in the US courts are $100,000, although Aafia's defence could potentially run into the millions.

2. Official sources have claimed that the US will act on the Pakistani Interior Minister's request to return Aafia to Pakistan.

3. Her two children have been separated from their mother for almost eight years now. They are living in a constant state of uncertainty, which is having a significant impact on their health. As a result of the 86 year sentence they will effectively have no relationship with their mother and may never see her again, if we do not act.

4. The whereabouts of the baby who was just six months old when abducted still remains a mystery till today.

5. The aging mother of Dr. Aafia is suffering from depression and ill health.

6. Dr. Aafia is in total isolation. Since being moved to Carswell after her sentencing, she has not been able to talk with any member of her family (except being allowed to leave one phone message) or allowed any visitation.

7. According to a prison psychologist, Aafiya is reported to have developed a psychiatric condition called "Psychosis" in which the sufferer has lost total contact with reality.


1. Help us to help Aafia by bringing her home.

2. Tune in to Channel Islam and Radio Al-Ansaar for the official launch and a joint broadcast of the Justice for Aafia Coalition branch in South Africa on Wednesday 16th February 2011 - 8pm to 10pm.

3. Don't forget Aafia by joining the Justice for Aafia Coalition

4. Write to Aafia to remind her that on this black day she is not forgotten. AAFIA SIDDIQUI # 90279-054, MDC BROOKLYN, METROPOLITAN DETENTION CENTER, P.O. BOX 329002, BROOKLYN, NY 11232

5. Spread the message and do not forget Aafia in your supplications.

6. Volunteer by responding to this communication and providing your contact details to enable us to set up a data base for JFAC South Africa.

7. Help us to coordinate the level of activism needed to create awareness and the release of Aafia Siddique.

8. For further information contact the undersigned.






Inayet Wadee

Talk Show Host : Global Dynamics


Thursday, February 10, 2011

500 Years of Worship

Angel Jibrail (alayhis salam) told RasulAllah (salAllahu alayhi wasalam) the following incident about a man in the past who worshipped Allah Ta’ala continuously for 500 years. He was granted a shelter on top of a mountain that was surrounded by salty water. However, Allah caused a stream of sweet water to flow through the mountain for that individual. The man would drink from this water and use it to make ablution. Allah Ta’ala also raised a pomegranate tree from which the man would eat one fruit every day.

One day, this person supplicated to Allah that, “Oh Allah, bring my death while I am in the state of prostration.” Allah accepted this Dua'a of his. Whenever Jibrail (alayhis salam) came down to the Earth, he found this man prostrating to Allah.

Jibrail (alayhis salam) said that on the day of Judgement, Allah will tell the angels to take this individual to Paradise through His mercy. However, this man will insist that he should enter paradise through the good deeds that he had performed.

Then, Allah will tell the angels to compare his good deeds with the blessings that were given to him in the world. It will be seen that 500 years of his worship does not even equal to the gift of eye sight that was given to him by Allah. The angels will be asked to take him towards the hell fire. Then the man will plead, “Oh Allah! Enter me into Paradise only through Your mercy.” At that point, the following discussion will take place between Allah and that man.

Allah: Oh my servant, who created you?
The worshipper: Oh Allah, You have created me.

Allah: Were you created because of the good deeds you have done or because of My mercy?
The worshipper: Because of Your mercy.

Allah: Who granted you the ability to worship for 500 years?
The worshipper: Oh the Almighty! You have granted me that ability.

Allah: Who placed you on the mountain surrounded by the ocean? Who caused a stream of sweet water to flow in between the salty water? Who caused a pomegranate tree to grow for you? Who granted you death while in the state of prostration?
The worshipper: Oh the Sustainer of the Worlds! You have done all of these.

Then Allah will say, “All these have happened due to My mercy and you too will enter Paradise only through My Mercy.” We can never thank Allah enough for the blessings that He has given us.

Let us use these blessings to recognize Allah and serve His Deen before death comes to us!

Friday, February 04, 2011

Jummah Mubarak

Muhammed Sallahu Alaihi Wasallam

The pen hangs over the blank page
Words to write, of a blessed age!

He came, He called, He cried
The earth lit up with glowing pride!!

People flocked to hear His words
All surrounded, even the birds

His fragrance had them spellbound
His character was perfect and speech profound

Muhammed Sallahu Alaihi Wasallam, was His blessed name
Spreading the true Deen was His only aim

Disbelievers turned to Him in anger
Eyes blazing with a raging fire

They boycotted Him and His loving family
Our beloved Nabi had to eat leaves of a tree!

At Taif they stoned his Mubarak body
Blood flowed into His shoes slowly, slowly

Should I crush them asked Allah the Almighty?
No, was the reply, a believer might emerge from amongst their progeny!

Insides of a camel were placed on His back
Little Faathima (RA) sobbing upon seeing this attack

Tears flow as the pen writes
Crying for us

Ummati, ummati, were His last words upon His breath
Concern for us even during death

We love you, our beloved Nabi, who sacrificed for His Ummah
We wish to rise up, next to You, on the day of Qiyaamah - Aameen

Laailaaha illallahu muhammadur Rasulullah

Thursday, February 03, 2011

The Red Heart

The Red Heart

It could have been the splash of red or the overabundance of hearts or the young man in a designer jeans that caught his eye, but Sheikh Hamaad stopped under the bold “Valentine’s day Specials” banner, set his shopping basket on the floor and watched the young man battling to select an appropriate gift from the heaps of hearts, teddy bears and chocolates. Like a busy humming bird he flitted from shelf to shelf struggling to choose.
Sheikh Hamaad approached him as he stood scratching his head, “Asalaamu Alaikum, young man, seems like you’re battling to make a choice.”

“Eish, Moulana, this is more difficult than I though. And lucky I only have to choose for two of them,” he said, picking up another heart decorated teddy bear, examining the price and putting down with disappointment.

“For your sisters?” Sheik asked, feigning innocence.
“Naah, just friends, you know how it is. You have to do these things” came the prompt reply.

Sheikh Hamaad remained silent and fixed his gentle gaze on the young man, something more than the loud Billabong T-shirt and hipster jeans told him that this young man had more than a spark of intelligence.

“Tell me, how many Valentine’s gifts do your sisters receive?”

“Hey, hey.... Moulana my sisters are not like that. They don’t do this boyfriend thing. My sisters...they are pure,” exclaimed the young man an angry frown crossing his face. “Just let the guy try and send my sisters one flower and I’ll make him eat it. You don’t know me!”

“Oh,” said Sheikh Hamaad without any apology, “And your mother, how many Valentine’s gifts does she get?”

The young man took a step back and glared at Sheikh Hamaad, “La howla wa....” his words swallowed by his anger, “how can you even say such things about my mother? My mother, she doesn’t do this stuff. She is like an angel. She is pure. How can you say this?”
Sheikh paused, waiting for the silence to absorb the boy’s anger, then said, tauntingly, “So they don’t receive any Valentine’s gifts or have boyfriend’s at all.”

“I told you, Moulana, my family is pure and they don’t do this junk stuff.”
Knowing the moment was right Sheikh but forward his reasoning, “So you really don’t like your sisters receiving these gifts or having boyfriends.”

“No ways,” came the emphatic reply, “not on my life”

“Then don’t you think,” Sheikh ventured, “that other people would also not like their sisters, mothers or aunts to receive such gifts. Just as you would like your sisters to remain pure, they would also like their sisters to be pure?”

The young man dropped his head and shifted his feet nervously, “You have a point, Moulana. Didn’t ever think of it like that. I don’t want to say...but you are right. I shouldn’t be polluting other people’s family if I don’t like my family to be polluted. This is all quite wrong isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s quite wrong,” without a hint of reprimand in his voice, “this is not our way.”
“But,” he asked, trying to conceal his embarrassment, “It’s not like we doing anything serious. I mean it’s only a gift. Not like we doing something physical...so it should be ok, no?”
Without disturbing his calmness, Sheikh Hamaad replied, “Do you like to go fishing?”

“Now you talking my language. Not a Sunday, not one, that we not by the dam,” he replied his hands waving with excitement, “We sit the whole day me and my buddies. First we prime the place with milie bombs. Just so the fish know we there. And they come, Moulana. They come for the bait. The whole lot, man....curpe, bass, barbell, you name it. But what’s that go to do with buying gifts.”

“When Shaytaan wants to trap someone,” Sheikh replied serenely, “he first puts some bait. Innocent stuff like gifts, the odd sms, just a hello and then when the time is right ....he will strike and how you say...you fall hook, line and sinker. Then he’s got you and it’s not long before he reels you in. So it starts with just a little bait. Just like the little gift that seems so innocent – it’s the bait.”

The young man beamed with this new found revelation and couldn’t wait to ask, “You are so right! And you have an amazing way of getting a point across Moulana, you didn’t just lecture me but you showed me how it is wrong. Thanks a mil. You must have learnt from a great teacher?”

“No doubt, I learnt from the best of all teachers,” Sheikh answered, “In fact, the best of all mankind...The Noblest Messenger of Allah- Rasulallah sallahu alaihi wa salam”

Source: www.eislam.co.za

Wednesday, February 02, 2011

The Strength of a Woman

The Strength of a Woman
The strength of a woman is not seen in the width of her shoulders but it is seen in the width of her arms when they encircle you.

The strength of a woman is not in the sweet tone of her voice but it is in the gentle words she whispers.

The strength of a woman is not how many friends she has but it is how good a friend she is with her children.

The strength of a woman is not who respects her but it is in how respected she is in her own home.

The strength of a woman is not in how she handles each situation but it is in how tender she is in her touch with every situation.

The strength of a woman is not in the smiles she gives each one but it is in her Heart that knows no boundaries of love for each one.

The strength of a woman is not in the weight she carries but it is in the burdens she can overcome.

The strength of a woman is not in her voice. It is in the wisdom of her words and the softness of her tone.

Tuesday, February 01, 2011

Chocolate Brownies

Our children are growing up fast. We have a responsibility & obligation to guide them. May Allah guide us all, Insha'allah.

Two teenagers asked their father if they could go to the theater to watch a movie that all their friends had seen. After reading some reviews about the movie on the Internet, he denied their request."Ah dad, why not?" they complained. "It's rated PG-13, and we're both older than thirteen!"Dad replied: "Because that movie contains nudity and portrays immorality as being normal and acceptable behavior.""But dad, those are just very small parts of the movie! That's what our friends who've seen it have told us. The movie is two hours long and those scenes are just a few minutes of the total film! It's based on a true story and good triumphs over evil, and there are other redeeming themes like courage and self-sacrifice.Even the movie review websites say that!" "My answer is 'no,' and that is my final answer. You will not go and watch that film. End of discussion.

"The two teenagers walked dejectedly into the family room and slumped down on the couch. As they sulked, they were surprised to hear the sounds of their father preparing something in the kitchen.They soon recognized the wonderful aroma of brownies baking in the oven,and one of the teenagers said to the other, "Dad must be feeling guilty, and now he's going to try to make it up to us with some fresh brownies. Maybe we can soften him with lots of praise when he brings them out to us and persuade him to let us go to that movie after all."The teens were not disappointed. Soon their father appeared with a plate of warm brownies, which he offered to his kids. They each took one.Then their father said, "before you eat, I want to tell you something: I love you both so much."

The teenagers smiled at each other with knowing glances. Dad was softening. "That is why I've made these brownies with the very best ingredients. I've made them from scratch. Most of the ingredients are even organic; the best organic flour, the best free-range eggs, the best organic sugar, premium vanilla and chocolate.

"The brownies looked mouth-watering, and the teens began to become a little impatient with their dad's long speech."But I want to be perfectly honest with you. There is one ingredient I added that is not usually found in brownies. I got that ingredient from our own back yard. But you needn't worry, because I only added the tiniest bit of that ingredient to your brownies. The amount of the portion is practically insignificant. So go ahead, take a bite and let me know what you think?

"Dad, would you mind telling us what that mystery ingredient is before we eat?""Why? The portion I added was so small, just a teaspoonful. You won't even taste it.""Come on, dad; just tell us what that ingredient is?""Don't worry! It is organic, just like the other ingredients. ""Dad!""Well, OK, if you insist. That secret ingredient is organic ... dog poop."Both teens instantly dropped their brownies back on the plate and began inspecting their fingers with horror."Dad! Why did you do that? You've tortured us by making us smell those brownies cooking for the last half hour, and now you tell us that you added dog poop! We can't eat these brownies!"

"Why not? The amount of dog poop is very small compared to the rest of the ingredients. It won't hurt you. It's been cooked right along with the other ingredients. . You won't even taste it. It has the same consistency as the brownies. Go ahead and eat!""No, Dad ... Never!""And that is the same reason I won't allow you to go watch that movie. You won't tolerate a little dog poop in your brownies, so why should you tolerate a little immorality in your movies? We pray that Allah(SWT) will not lead us unto temptation, so how can we in good conscience entertain ourselves with something that will imprint a sinful image in our minds that will lead us into temptation long after we first see it?"

Remember, we become de-sensitized a little bit at a time; it is the small and minimal sins that we forget the most.