I’m never going to be perfect 

‘Blessed is he whose own faults keep him from seeing the faults of others.’– Ali ibn abu Talib

Lots of times when I stumble upon comments towards hijabi instagram bloggers I literally get sad. Because, intentionally or unintentionally I’ve become a hijabi blogger of influence myself. 

I get why people want us to be perfect, I really do. I get why people wish for us to be perfect, BUT I don’t get why they EXPECT it. 

There’s a difference, a very big one indeed, between wishing and expecting something from someone. 

I want to tell you all a story about me. 

About two years ago I thought I was the most religious person. I really, deeply within myself thought that I was at the HIGHEST pitch of my imaan. 

Now, when I look back the only thing I can do is pity myself for even having such an ignorant, backwards mentality. 

This is something I want to share with you all, because so many of these ‘advising’ sisters/brothers think that changing the way you dress is going to help boosting your imaan. Maybe. Maybe, it works sometimes, but trust me not always. I’ve been there. I’ve tried to be ‘a perfect muslim’, do you even hear how stupid that sounds?

‘the perfect muslim’. 

Two years ago I started wearing the jilbaab. Jilbaab, khimar, the whole thing. The only thing that was missing was a Niqaab. 

I walked around with pride, I thought I was representing my religion SO well. I’m actually so embarrassed to even say this, but it’s true. I thought that by covering as I did I would be the closest to Allah like ever before. 

You know what the truth is? 

I began to look down upon the women who didn’t dress like me. 

Whenever I saw a girl wearing pants or even LOOSE TROUSERS I’d feel much better of a muslim standing next to her. ASTAGHFIRULLAH. I actually can’t believe I’m sharing this with you all, because this is something that I’m really ashamed of admitting. 

As sad as it is.. wearing the jilbaab made me ignorant. At first I thought I was getting closer to Allah, closer to my deen, but no.. I swear, in my heart I was so far away from Allah, and I didn’t even realize it, and that’s the scariest part. 

I’m so thankful that Allah helped me out. 

I was not ready. I was NOT ready to wear a jilbaab and cover completely, I just wasn’t ready to represent something so beautiful and make it ugly. 

In my heart I felt ugly. I did. 

So now tell me… how would it help to portray myself as ‘the perfect muslim’ and actually be crap on the inside.

I was a ignorant. And I didn’t become ignorant before I started wearing the jilbaab. 

I’m not saying that sisters who cover from head to toe with a jilbaab or niqaab are ignorant and arrogant. Not at all. I’m just saying that I personally was not at all ready to dress like that. Instead of it getting me closer to my deen, it took me far away. 

After a couple of months I decided to dress as I do now, because at LEAST, I wouldn’t look down on any muslim woman standing next to me, even if she was wearing a bloody bikini. That’s NOT what my religion teaches me. Astaghfirullah.  

I’m thankful, Alhamdulillah. I’m so thankful that Allah opened my eyes. I know a lot of people are going to find faults in this as well. It’s alright. It’s okay. It’d only be weird if people didn’t. 

In shaa Allah, one day Allah gives me the actual strength to cover up properly. One day, I’ll wear the jilbaab with a clean mind and heart, but I certainly won’t do so till I’m ready. 

Till then, please let me evolve with my religion. 

Let me progress.

Let me take my time.

Don’t expect me to be perfect, because the last thing I am is perfect.

I understand that I have an influence on my muslim sisters, but that certainly does NOT mean that people are allowed to expect me to be a perfect muslim. I don’t know what world people are living in, to even think that’s okay. 

Pray for me. Please do. I’ll appreciate every single dua’a. But the last thing people have the right to do, is to expect from me or any other hijabi blogger to be a perfect muslim for the sake of people. 

There’s no point.

There’s no point in trying to be perfect for PEOPLE, can’t you see how dumb that sounds? 

Majority of the followers of hijabi instagram bloggers (including my followers) follow us because of our physical beauty. Do not come here and tell me, or any other scarf-wearing blogger to be perfect. 

I started dressing like I do now for the sake of Allah, and Alhamdulillah now I am much closer to Allah. 

By wearing the jilbaab I was trying to be someone who i’m not, and my Lord knows the intentions I behold within. 

People honestly need to stop, take a step back and look at everything from a bigger perspective.

Hijab is a process. 

You. Simply. Cannot. Be. Perfect. 

And people really do not have the audacity to expect that. 

To all my supporters. I hope you all understand where I’m coming from. 

If I’ve offended anybody I sincerely apologize. 
I’m imperfect and I want all to know that. 



The me you don’t see 

Who am I?.. A question I ask myself every single night, before I go to sleep. Not because I’m in doubt of who I am, not at all. But because, I want to see, If my answer to that question is different from my answer the evening before. 

Growth. Development. Achievement. These words are so so important to me. To learn everyday, to fall everyday, to succeed EVERY day, is what keeps me going, and for every night I expect my answer to be different. If not, then something is really wrong. 

Why am I saying all of this? Why am I telling you guys this? What’s the point of this post? Why have I been so absent from my blog, what went wrong? 

Writing. Writing was, and has always been a way for me to grow. A way for me to temporarily escape from the world, and my surroundings. I find peace, “sukoon” in writing.. for me, playing with words is fascinating. To explain feelings that are not so easy to explain through words is a real art. Forget all the makeup for a second, forget all the physical beauty. This is me. This is who I am. This is my most important feature. 

I’ve learned a couple of things about social media. People won’t wait 2 seconds to misunderstand you, and people will easily overlook who you really are, even though it’s right in front of them. Alhamdulillah, I am blessed to say that I receive more love than anything else on my instagram page. I am truly blessed. And I love my sisters on there. The encouragment and the motivation is real. I love it, and I am thankful, I truly am, and I want everyone to know that. Thank You❤️.

In my now 9 month long instagram journey, I’ve realized some things..

My following grew with every day, and I was so excited to share my writings with EVERYONE. Remember, this is a passion for me. This is something I dig, this is ME. I think I had 5000 followers at the time, when I shared a picture (of something artistic) with my poetry in the caption. I would only get upto 2-300 likes on that picture, whereas I’d get 2-3000 likes on pictures of my face. Now this hurted me. I had expectations (unfortunately). I thought I’d get recognized for what my mind beholds, rather than what my physical beauty beholds. I posted other pieces, and slowly I realized that the real me is not for everyone. Don’t get me wrong, some people actually took the time out to dig deeper into a “pretty face”. I obviously got recognition from the people who noticed ME, and trust me till this day, those compliments are the ones I cherish the most, I remember each and every compliment. Compliments about my physical beauty doesn’t stick to me, as compliments about my mind does. Because physical beauty is temporary, my mind and soul isn’t. 

If I get old and wrinkly tomorrow, people are going to unfollow me. Truth right there. But people who follow my heart will follow ME, Isha. They’ll follow Isha and not her face. 

Anyway, I realized that I am not for everyone. ISHA is not for everyone, but subhanAllah her face, her face apparently is. 

People don’t know what’s hidden behind a beautiful face, and I’m talking in general. People who know me, old friends, family will say they’re proud of me. “Proud”?, proud of what? Proud of me posting pictures of myself on social media? what’s there to be proud of? Nothing really. 

In the eyes of people I’ve achieved a future career, recognition, love, support. And yes, yes I have, and I’m thankful to every single soul who supports me. But, I’ve only achieved all of this because of my face. I haven’t achieved anything special in my own eyes by doing this, because my passion doesn’t lie in flaunting materialistics (not that I do that, but you get it) or in flaunting my beauty. My passion lies in writing, and so much more.. 

I am more than a “pretty face”, and this blog is for all of those who want to know ME. The me you don’t see. 

My instagram doesn’t tell you nothing about ME. Things like I’m the Reshman, Farida Khanum, Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan type of person. That urdu ghazal is very very dear to my heart. I am a whole another person outside this beauty world, and I can’t wait to show you guys who I am. 
I’m going to finish this blog-post off, by sharing a piece of mine.. 

I wish they could see

past the structure of my face

shape of my eyes and brows

size of my lips and nose

the physical beauty I behold

is nothing more than an illusion

it’s a delusion 

many people fail and fall

they think so small, so small 

I’ve learned that beauty is a curse

don’t love me for my appearance

tell me what you feel, and believe me

in an instance

I shall praise you for your intelligence 

because you’ve felt my presence in your heart and soul 

for me, that’s power beyond physical beauty 

that’s what I burn for

that’s what makes me whole