Music in Parisian Metro

No one really visits my blog. Because no one really knows about it. The only ones who's been on my blog are my former murabbi, her mom ( I think), one of my usrahmates, my adik-adik usrah, one of my housemates, and some other random people who visited my blog once when I posted the link to it on my fb. Once.

I'm not so enthusiastic about people, random people or strangers, reading my blog either. Well, it's always a dilemma of getting my thoughts out there, and my conflicting nature of hating people who don't really know me, don't experience living with me and stuff- get to know stuff about me, my character, my personality, stuffs I like, stuffs I think about, which, to me, are personal.

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In January, I went on a winter trip to France, England (London), Scotland (Edinburgh) and Ireland (Belfast). It was the longest winter trip I've ever went on. 2 weeks and 3 day. The last 2-3 days or so of the trip, I was totally "pancit". Didn't wanna go nowhere. Just wann'ed to sleep.

I achieved a lot, I think, from my winter trip. Learnt a lot about myself. Experienced the culture. Understood the world better than before I went on that trip. Survived the ups and downs of travelling with other people. Lots of things happened, lots of stuff. But I'm not blessed with the ability to beautifully transform everything I see into writing. Most of the stuff I see, taste, hear, experience, they're kept in the heart-they help me to feel more; in the lens of my eyes-they help me see the world in a constantly renewed perspective; and in my head- they help me understand human, the uniqueness of them, the culture, their association with nature and development, a whole lot better.

Oh, yeah. And I hung out with ma brathahh (my bro) in London. Hoyeahh!

One thing I do feel like sharing -though you may not experience the feeling of enlightenment and thoughtfulness that I experienced when this following realization had hit me, but whatever- a scene I saw in an underground Paris metro.

I was riding the metro one Parisian morning to go see Eiffel (or was it Pierre Herme?) with my 2 hommies (no, they're not my hommies) when suddenly  a song came playing. At first I thought, "What is this, they have the radio on in the metro or something?" But then, when I looked around, there was this old couple, around 40-50 years old I'd say.
The man was playing the accordion, while the lady, presumably his wife, sang to the music. They played and sang beautifully. But everyone in the metro was ignoring them, avoided eye contact with them, some even frowned upon them. She was still singing when we got off. I understood later, when I embarked on another metro and saw another senior lady singing a few rounds and then asking for money, that the couple must've had done the same thing.

"What's so enlighteni-"

I'll tell you what's so enlightening.
I, for one, just hate seeing senior citizens or anyone whose age isn't far apart from my parents', working hard, being ignored, having to ask crowds for money. I just hate it.
And the senior couple, oh my God, kept smiling throughout their gig.
The man was playing the accordion, moving to the beat of the music he's making, smiling non-stop while looking into people's face. His partner-the same, only she was singing. But people were ignoring them, people didn't look at them. The ones who did look them had 'annoyed' plastered all over their faces for having their peace in the metro disturbed.

Making music in the metro for some money

I wondered how the man could look into their faces and still keep his smile so bright and keep doing what he was doing, an act I highly suspect I am unable of ever carrying out.

Looking at this couple, while maintaining a polite smile -stretched enough so that they can see I was smiling and not just rudely staring at them, but not bright enough that they might ask me for money- on my face, made me think:

How they are able to carry on this marvellous feat, the reason must be one out of these two:

1) Either they're really really desperate, that frowning faces are just minor unpleasantness they have to bear compared to the mountains of problems hanging on their shoulders,

2)Or they really really love what they do.

In the context of being a daie, I continued thinking then, it's both.
It's a sunnatullah (something that Allah has made it fixed so) that being a daie, someone who's calling towards good and God, is uber hard, and there's always gonna be resistance, there's always gonna hatred thrown at your face, and as you are striving for 'al-haqq' (righteousness) to thrive, there's always gonna be others who does the same work for 'al-batil' (falsehood).

Nabi s.a.w faced the worst kinds of "unpleasantness". The ignorants of his time called him a liar, a wizard, they tortured whoever followed the message he conveyed, they plotted against him, they tried to kill him. One of those people was his uncle.
And yet, he persisted.

When he stood up on Bukit Safa', he called his people in a desperation and urgency to save them from the torture that is Hellfire.
When he stood in front of the Almighty in the deep darkness of night, he called upon Him in braids of unrequited love.

We may face a lot of pain, but we go on because we're desperate, and because of love. We are desperately in love...with Him.