Crossing Hurdles

Note: Sorry about the short-ish post… Something that is more substantial will be posted later this week InshaAllah.

Author not well, request for Du’aas.

Bismillahir Rahmaanir Raheem

Waseem: Meeting expectations...

There are times in life when things unfold exactly the way you expect. Sometimes, even the finer expectations are met, in ways that we, ourselves, are surprised by.

And at other times, our expectations seldom meet the predictions that we had in our minds. There are times when things don’t quite go the way we had planned.

But that’s all in the plan of our Rabb. It’s all in the greater plan, that we fail to understand.

It just happens that at times we are too blinded by expectation to see that in not giving us what we want when we want it, it is purely a means of us acquiring a better and greater reward. Every slight test we endure is an opportunity to build the relationship with our Lord. We keep on going, because by being grateful, we truly have nothing to lose.

And, in my mind, I thought that nothing was lost. Everything, in hindsight, had gone well. And to say the least, I was quite sure that all would work out, when I had put myself out there. I was convinced and confident. No reservations. Being a ‘somebody’ in my neighbourhood from adolescence had got me quite an ego, and as the next day after the big proposal dawned, I felt a little bit of a reality check.

The realisation that the smart car I drove, money my father had, and the bank accounts he had set up for us for life, wouldn’t mean a thing when it came to this greatest event, hit me like a truck. To these people, and to this girl, I doubted all my draw cards had any effect. I doubted that it would even sway their decision.

However, where it did matter, I knew that I might be at a loss. With regard to Deen, what really did I have to offer?

All that hit me was this: Hell, a chic of that calibre must have even had the likes of Aalims propose to her… How did I even stand a chance against that?

And so, the third day after proposing, my hopes were swiftly plummeting, realising that maybe I wouldn’t get a chance to show what I could offer her. Maybe I wouldn’t see any more but a glimpse of the other side. Maybe all this chasing was just going to result in me losing it altogther… Just when I had finally found the gold.

But of course, when all the hopes are dashed, and you have no-one else that you can turn to, only the Almighty has your back. Even when you have zero expectation, and you’re feeling all down and out, with faith in Him, you never come out with nothing.

And so, after a particularly rough night, when I entered the Masjid the following day, I just knew that their was a silver lining here. My spirits immediately rose when I spotted Molvi Umar in the front, talking seriously to a someone, while I waited in the back.

I just knew that it was going to be a different kind of day.

He ended his conversation and it was a few moments of confusion and complete bewilderment before I realised who he was talking to. As the man in question turned around, none other than Zaynah’s father stood there, and he walked toward me, looking just as surprised to see me.

I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it, but a hint of a smile crossed Molvi’s face as he caught my eye  just before Zaynah’s father got to me, pausing to greet with both hands, Sunnah style, looking me straight in the eye.

If he was avoiding eye contact, I might have been worried, but the fact that he was so full-on with me got me all the more hopeful.

My nerves were already completely shot down by that stage, so I supposed any news would have been good news.

“Waseem,” he said steadily, still holding my hand. “My daughter is happy…”

And that’s all I heard. I mean, he didn’t have to say a word more. I was already smiling from ear-to-ear and I could now clearly see Molvi Umar watching me back, a clear smirk on his bright face.

Those moments were simply priceless. I was of such a momentary high, that I couldn’t focus to listen to what he was saying next.

“… To talk about what your parents want to do…”

Ah, shucks. My parents.

I had seen my mother a few times, but only out of the house. Mothers were mothers. She knew my battles with my father. I knew that she would hear me out if I had to ask her for anything, but my father would be a hard nut to crack. I wasn’t sure if I was willing to chance it.

I nodded back, telling him that I would come this afternoon so we can sort out the details of the next step forward. My heart was literally thumping in my chest, and I forced myself to calm down.

Jasses, Was, I told myself. Just cool off.

I was anxious. Despite the obvious excitement I felt, I knew I couldn’t exactly tell anyone until I had told my parents. I had already made my mind up about my father: Whatever he had to say, it wouldn’t sway me. My duty was just to tell him, and put myself out there for some possible ear-splitting performances. I didn’t need his approval, because it didn’t matter.

“Mus’ab,” a voice said, and I looked up to see Molvi Umar smiling, like he knew something that I didn’t.

“How’s everything, Maulana?” I said, turning to him to greet, trying to conceal my anxiety.

“Everything great, I hear,” he replied, still smiling. “Why are you still looking stressed?”

I sighed, feeling the whole world’s weight on my shoulders.

“Parents don’t know,” I said, rubbing my temples.

Molvi didn’t seem surprised.

“You know what you do,” he said thoughtfully. “After you read your two rakaats, just ask Allah to make it easy. Ask Him to sort it out, to make Nikah quick and it will be okay.”

I nodded, his words having the desired impact.

I felt immensely guilty. I mean, things had worked out perfectly so far, but not even for a moment did I stop to think about my reaction to it all.

Things were moving forward, but my mind was focussed on the next hurdle rather than focussing on how much had gone right. I didn’t even consider making shukar and thanking Allah…

“And [remember] when your Lord proclaimed, ‘If you are grateful, I will surely increase you [in favor]; but if you deny, indeed, My punishment is severe’.” (14:7)

I was living in a illusion that everything depended on my effort alone, completely forgetting the one who controls everything.

And so often we forget that indeed, part of being in obedience to Allah is to thank Him for everything he had blessed us with so so far. And with obedience and gratitude, then only will He shower us with so much more and increase us in bounties.

So I turned to Him, realising that it was only Him who had brought me through everything that I had been through till this day.

I realised the truth. That nothing happened without a purpose. Nothing. Not even when I got broken…. Not even when I experienced pain, or nearly lost myself to the Duniyaa in completion.

I learnt that difficulty was but a lesson and sign for me… They were warnings that something was majorly wrong. Warnings that I was indeed grateful for, because they had brought me to where I was today. They opened my eyes… They made me change.

I sat in solitide and complete gratitude, then realising that now was the time for the next step. I had asked Allah for guidance in matters that I was concerned about, so now the news had to be spread. Time won’t wait.

As much as I wanted to cling onto the moments where everything was perfect, I knew that a little discomfort would be a means to move on to better things.

I got up, planning my next moves carefully, because I knew what lay ahead.

It was time to go and see my father.

• Gratitude
• Hope
• Islam