grateful for this little safe space.

We went for Hajj for a total of 28 days, including the days we self-quarantined before reuniting with the kids. During those 28 days, Hajihaji requested only one thing from me -- that I had to refrain from updating my socials over that period of time. This meant no FB, no IG, and no anything else, apart from contact with family and the kids through Whatsapp. 

And all this happened just as I was about to update my IG with the caption "please make prayer for us" with a photo of us when we were in transit in Bangkok. 

The rebel in me wanted to ignore Hajihaji's request. But a huge part of me knew how important it was for him that I focused. Just for that wee bit of time. 

So, I obliged. 

Turns out that that was one of the best things he did for me.

I was laser focused on my ibadah and made so many meaningful connections with some of the loveliest people during that short period of time. And this, for the ambivert of a being that I am -- is huge. 

Upon returning home, I realised that I felt a whole lot more comfortable with people not constantly knowing what I was up to - and though I did occasionally update my IG account, especially during the year that I was away in the UK, I really preferred not to. 

Here's the thing -- after having spent a lot of time away from IG (where I'm most active), I came to the realisation that IG and every other social media platform for the matter, had created an unnatural need for engagement between humans. 

I mean, just think of it -- in the past, we would never expect people to respond immediately, or be in constant contact with each other or be so preoccupied with the assumption that people must know everything about us -- but in this time and age, not only are we presumptuous, we have also turned social media engagement as a measure of one's friendship, popularity and even mistaken lack of engagement as a sign of envy. 

Like, when did it all start to matter this much? 

Since when did the amount of likes and comments signaled one's validity and "right of passage" into the real world? 

The air sometimes feels way too heavy where the engagement is superficial and heightened. 

So, I guess it's no wonder I keep coming back to this safe space of mine.