Bismilllahir Rahmaanir Raheem
Waseem: What's meant to be...
The human heart is a funny thing. In one spectacular vessel, it can hold many emotions, feelings and connections, that we can never completely fathom.
The ties that bind us are sometimes impossible to explain. They connect us even after it seems like the ties should be broken. Some bonds even defy distance, time, and logic. Because some ties are simply… Meant to be.
And I had felt love before. Of course I had. I had let it consume me and take over. I had let it engulf me and overcome me, but I realised one thing. The love that you feel when you see your first child…
Well, that love is a different kind. That love is just… Well, it literally takes your breath away.
And like that image in the distance that we are hoping to reach, and will become willing to sacrifice everything to get there, that too, sometimes eludes us.
As I eyed my brother, my own heart couldn’t be controlled. I could tell exactly how he felt. He was drowning in the type of gratitude that happens when you know that you truly don’t deserve something that good. It’s like everything just fell into place, but out of no effort on your part. Life just took a turn for the best, and it was hardly believable.
“I can hardly believe it,” he was saying. Of course, he was awestruck, and though it may sound weird- but the mere fact that a new life can emerge out of a clot of blood… well, it was nothing short of awesome. It was the miracle of life.
“Name?” I asked, looking through the glass at my new niece. I wasn’t sure what she looked like as yet, but I was glad to see that the baby looked pretty normal.
“We’re still deciding,” Mo said, and I nodded, wondering how things had progressed so drastically in the past few months.
I mean, just seeing my wife outside had put a whole lot into perspective now. The fact that she looked almost like she was back to being the Zaynah I had known and loved all that time sent chills down my spine. I wasn’t sure why, but seeing it made me even more weary. Was it all really as good as it seemed? I just couldn’t seem to let it sink in.
After everything that I had seen in the past few months, I wasn’t sure if I could just snap back to our shallow reality just yet. I still had images of bloody corpses stuck in my head, and I closed my eyes briskly to try and block them out.
“It just happened overnight,” I could hear Molvi saying to me, as we drove through the deserted streets late that night we had landed, all those months ago.
“Like us, they were also in a lax state before the war hit them,” he continued, speaking in a low tone now as we entered a new district.
The driver of the car we were in had suddenly stopped, and a few armed men could be seen approaching the car. I immediately tensed up as the window opened, hearing them speak in the local language, and then addressing us in the back.
I was on edge as they spoke, knowing they expected a response, but unable to understand what they were saying. My heart seemed to jolt up my throat as their voices got louder , and just as I was about to give us up and let the cat out, Molvi placed a comforting arm on my shoulder, leaned forward, and spoke so calmly, I couldn’t understand how he did it. He spoke so smoothly in the local language that not even I would have thought he was a foreigner, had I not known him.
I shook my head as we drove away to the masjid we were going to reside, not believing that we had just scraped something quite threatening. With Molvi around, I knew that Allah would be on our side.
And of course, having him around got us out just when we needed to. Although I argued that I had nothing to be back home for, the fact that our death would have been questionable if it had been ther was very likely. The war was becoming a civil one, and that could never be the kind of Jihaad we wanted to be involved in. Too many beliefs. Too many sects.
Though Molvi had said that he would be there for Da’wah purposes alone, the fact that we were there in the midst of the trouble made us part of it already. We eventually made the decision to remove ourselves when people were not responding to the call to unite. Instead of uniting as a common Muslim body, the divisions were becoming greater and scarier.
I blinked back the emotion I still felt when I saw the dead bodies that last day, just lying there, waiting to be claimed. Some looked like they were still fresh… As if their souls had just been taken from them seconds ago. It was when I truly realized the truth in the words that I had heard many times before. Indeed, the true martyrs were the ones who, by Allah’s Will and Might, hold corpses that do not decay even though they have been buried in the graves for dozens, hundreds or even thousands of years.
It is mentioned that Muslim historians had reported that when Mu’awiyah (RA) ruled, he was planning for a water channel to be built in Madinah. In order for this development to be achieved, the channel had to be routed through the middle of the Madinah cemetery. Therefore, he ordered the remains of the dead in the graves to be transferred to another place.
In the midst of the dismantling and relocation process, the people found that the corpses were still in their original states. When one of the shovels they used accidentally hit and slashed the leg of a Sahabi, blood was seen flowing from the cut. This occurred although he had died in the Battle of Uhud, about 50 years before this incident.
In fact, there are so many narrations to be mentioned about the undying state of the corpses of those who died as Shaheed. Nevertheless, based on the narrations, it is evident that the bodies of the Shuhadaa also do not rot away (consumed by the earth). In fact, the scholars have clarified that their condition is like that of a living body, as they are provided sustenance accordingly.
The subject has been clearly mentioned by the Qur’an: “Think not of those who are slain in Allah’s way as dead. Nay, they live, finding their sustenance in the presence of their Lord;” [Qur’an 3:169]
And for those people who were prone to adversity, it was a common sight in the streets after an invasion or blast. Some didn’t even flinch as they saw it. They knew what had happened. They knew how it all went down. It was just another day of war-torn life, and the atrocities that came with it. They knew that what would come after would be better. That their faith would only get stronger.
For us, on the other hand, our reality was a far cry. It was our never-ending chase of the world that fueled our day-to-day lives. It was the constant rivalry for worldly consumption that sparked our concerns. Nothing like what I had seen the past few months. We were so off-track.
I sighed now, as I left the hospital, spotting the car I knew oh-so-well waiting on the far end of the parking lot. Abbi’s car was now being used by his brother, and it evoked memories that were sometimes difficult to swallow.
I gestured to them to follow me as I reversed out. Of course I had to make sure my wife was taken care of while she was back home. I thought of offering them to come and stay at the house, but after everything that had happened… I didn’t want to be disappointed once again. I didn’t want to push it, and scare her away.
I left them that night with a heavy heart, knowing that there was so much still hanging in the air. So much left unsaid, and so much m yet to be explained. I didn’t know how long it would be until I saw her again, and my mind was so alive with questions, despite my body being so tired.
I had went straight from the airport to see my brother, and when I finally walked into my house that night, my mother’s emotions got me wondering why I ever went away in the first place. She clung onto me, and I held her back, not knowing what they had thought really happened to me. I knew that they deserved an explanation. I knew that everyone did.
And just as I was thinking of what exactly I would say, then of course, when I finally got to my room, the reality of what I had left behind became apparent. Everything that had happened came flooding back.
Meeting Raees. The letter. My marriage.
I sucked in my breath, so confused anout what to make of the whole thing. If only I could have known how much this changed me. If only she could know how much she had taught me. And yes, maybe it was really hard right now, but I would have never opened my eyes if I never took the plunge.
The huge awakening that I never saw before. And when that happens, like it did for me that day… To reach a different kind of elevation, where you never imagined yourself to be, you know that you actually achieved. Then you know that you have to be grateful. When you finally reach out for others, and not just yourself, that’s only when you will attain the kind of salvation that you truly need. That’s the height that defines our true worth.
But first, you have to do it. You have to make a plan. You have to set a goal. You have to reach for what may even seem impossible, and let it be known.
And so, I opened a notepad Zaynah had kept at the top of her cupboard, took out my Mont Blanc pen that I had always cherished, and started writing. Another one of the materialistic things that I had taken such great care of, but now meant nothing to me.
I wrote, and wrote, and wrote. Because I didn’t have the heart to to pick up my laptop or phone, I poured it out on paper. I just didn’t care about anything else.
I poured out my experiences, and everything that I had kept inside all this time. Of course I still loved her, but my focus had completely changed now. And for her, she might not love, or even know me now, but for the brief time that she did, she had changed me because of it. It was that hopeless kind of love. The type that was not only unforgettable… But unmatched and incomparable on every possible level.
And as I finished the last paragraph of what I wanted to relate, I knew just what I had to say to sign off. I wasn’t sure where we would go from here, or where we were headed in the future. All I knew was that whatever was to happen would be what destiny had in store. The very person who I was addressing knew that better than anyone else, as she would often remind me. How could I ever forget?
The pen. The very thing I had been using had to be the reminder for what I needed to know.
I wished it was different, and I wished it was more clear cut. I wished that everything that had to happen would be as I wanted, but when it came to the reality of the future, it wasn’t to do with matters of the heart. It wasn’t to do with what our feeble minds made sense of. It was, frankly, all in the hands of Allah.
The Messenger of Allah (S.A.W) is reported to have said: ‘The First Thing ALLAH created was the Pen. He commanded it to write. The Pen said: “What should I write?” It was said: “Write Taqdeer.” So the pen wrote everything that will happen till now and what will happen till eternity.” (Tirmidhi)
Taqdeer. It was what it was. It shall be what it shall be. That is how it will end.
I continued to write, with that in mind.
The ties that bind us are sometimes impossible to explain. They connect us even after it seems like the ties are broken. Some bonds are so strong… that they even defy time, distance and logic.
Because no matter what happens after… some ties were simply… Meant to be. Whether we meet again, or there is nothing in store for us from this day, know that the very fact that you were part of my journey, was meant to be. Allah chose you to be the reason for me to start over. The reason for me to change.
I think of you, and my heart is filled with love and gratitude to our Lord… So I just want to thank you. Thank you.
Thank you for Tahajjud smiles and late night laughs. Thank you for holding my hand through the rough patches, sharing that last packet of jelly babies, and for proving to me that real love through and for Allah Ta’ala can exist. Thank you for showing me the truth of this temporary world, and for opening my eyes to what I had been blind to all along. Thank you for giving a guy like me a chance, when no-one else would have. You gave me something beyond just what a wife can give, made me take the plunge, and I will always be grateful for that.
Thank you for the pleasure of being your someone special and giving me mine…
That, I will never forget.
Your always and forever husband,
Please Don’t forget our Super Sunnahs! Lot of Durood on this Jumuah…
Sallalahu Alaihi Wa Sallam…
SubhaanAllah. Let’s try and observe the Sunnah Duaas of eating InshaAllah.