A Day In the Life of A Muslim

by ~Mobeen Tariq

I've chosen to spend my last day of freedom writing.

I know, it's a pretty stupid thing to do. My friends would probably call me nuts. They never really understood what I was all about anyways; just because I'm not up-to-date with all the latest songs and movies, and I don't really like spending my time playing video games. I'm not quite interested in the latest trends or make-up either. Most of the time my style is just simple and natural; just like me. I don't know exactly what image they have of me, but I do know that they're my friends all the same, and I guess they don't really hate being around me because they always take me along wherever they happen to go.

Besides, I already spent yesterday in the mall. Okay, I wasn't shopping for high-heels; I hate those; I'm known for being short and I like it that way. Anyways, I wasn't really shopping at all. I just took off on my own while they were all having lunch; after stuffing myself with an iced mocha and a bag of chips, I wasn't really in for dinner. I decided to take advantage of the hot, stuffy food court and take a little stroll by myself. As usual, I ended up in the first bookstore I found. Just the massive amount of books makes a library or a bookstore the most comfortable place in the world for me. It gives me the chance to be alone without being alone. Okay, that didn't sound right. What I'm trying to say is that I feel like the souls of hundreds of people are just laid out neatly on those shelves closing in on me, so I'm not exactly alone. The difference is that each and every one of those people is waiting to talk to me, to speak to me, but nobody imposes his own voice or thoughts on me: I get to choose who to talk to and who to ignore. I'm the focus, the center of attention, and I don’t have to feel awkward about it because I can just be myself; they won't size me up based on how short I am, how young I look, or the veil covering my hair. They won't mistake me for someone I'm not and they won't judge.

I bought two books; one inspirational and the other more informative. I'd read the inspirational one before, but I still wanted to buy it; to read it over and over again, or perhaps just to keep it on my shelf with the rest of my book collection. Somehow, owning a book is very different from just borrowing it. It's as if the lessons in that book become a part of you once you own it. I can't really explain. Sucks, really, because then my parents don't understand why I spend most of my allowance on books I've read or others I can just borrow from the local library. I knew my Dad wouldn't be so happy. Being me, I'd tell him how I just spent money on over-priced books, one of which I've already read. Being my Dad, he'd reprimand me for wasting money needlessly, and remind me that there was such a thing as a library, and that you don't waste money on a book you'll read only once just to have it on your bookshelf. Anyways, deep down inside I know that he's relieved his teen daughter is spending her money on books rather than make-up or new outfits or God knows what.

Okay, so I'm spending my last day of freedom writing and reading; the informative book, not the inspirational one. It's turning out to be very funny and interesting. I mean, I do like playing video games sometimes, especially puzzle games, word games and car racing. Yeah, I know it's a little childish, but it's fun. The thing is, when I spend too much time doing that I feel very useless; I'm not adding anything to myself nor to the world around me. I might as well not exist. I hate that feeling. Very few people understand that side of me; those few I call my best friends.

So here I am, on my last day of freedom; reading, writing, and analyzing myself and the world around me. It's weird, maybe even stupid, that I've chosen to devote my last day of freedom on the exact same things I'll be doing when I start university tomorrow; things I'll probably long to take a break from after not so long.

Oh, I'm sorry. Was the title misleading?