Bismihi Ta’ala
Part 52
Hamzah
The buzzing of my iPhone in the early parts of the morning had already awoken me in a cold sweat, as my breathing quickened.
And there I lay, so far from that nightmarish reality I had just witnessed, in the stillness of the night, I could still feel the wetness of my t-shirt clinging to my back. I turned slightly, feeling the slight weight of my wife’s slender fingers on my shoulder, sliding them away as gently as I could, and shifting toward the edge.
I was almost holding my breath as I shifted toward the edge, with one eye open. I had already glimpsed the caller ID and my heart immediately sank, even lower than I had thought possible at that moment.
Hashim (3)
Layyanah’s brother, the new bane to my life, was at it again, and this time, I could see his relentless pursuit of Zaid’s credentials and custody preferences.
The message came a few seconds later.
Call me back or ul be sorry
Why he couldn’t and wouldn’t let this go, was still beyond me.
It was late. Too late for the crap. Almost 2AM, and I rubbed my eyes, closing them momentarily as I pictured it again the scene that played before me. This time, it was a little earlier than my habitual waking, that I had been doing consistenly since Ramadhaan. The last third of the night. The Barakah of praying then had always brought so much more to my day. Coming back from Al-Aqsa that Ramadhaan had stemmed a whole lot of vigour in me, but the haunting dream I had just endured was also due to it.
Spitting on my left side, I tried to desperately suppress the emotions, as raw as the first time I had seen the little girl in them, her blue-grey eyes large and almost translucent, brimming with tears flowing continuously…
“Please don’t shoot,” she was crying, speaking in Arabic, and I had gazed her in the dream, not even understanding how a tiny and pristine creature like that could be abandoned, with not a single soul one to even account for her.
Soldiers had been streaming into the scene at that point, an open road all around Al-Aqsa, running to her, as if she was an enemy out to get them. I was helpless, unarmed and wondering how I could ever assist…
I had only been able to shake my head, trying to decipher how anyone could ever even think of hurting such an angelic and defenseless child.
“Baba, where are you?!” She cried, searching around her, her eyes filled with terror, sobbing then, as she calls out for her mother.
And as the dream goes on, I attempt to find who she is looking for, but as I turned to look around, I glimpse the blotches of blood splattered on the floor, and without even processing what I was seeing… I already knew that there was no one left… her family’s gone… only a brother, whose barely 5 years in age, lingers around.
And as she wanders, through to the street, I wondered how anyone could be so heartless to hate a child so innocent. I wondered how a child so small, could ever deserve this? How could pointing a gun at a baby, who screams, “please, don’t shoot”, ever be justified?
And as I follow her, thinking how absolutely afraid, yet self-sufficient she looked, she turned to look up at me, her eyes conveying a message of deep determination that I can’t even begin to understand… just before the muzzle of the gun is felt in my neck as fear shoots through me, and then everything just went black.
It was something close to terrifying, that last part, but it had been a while since the dream had played out again… almost 10 days since the last, but it felt more real than ever this time. I couldn’t understand why it haunted me, but my subconscious was obviously a lot stronger than I knew.
And I knew I shouldn’t have been as terrified because for a believer, martyrdom was the purpose. Not the wealth or booty of this world, we had become so obsessed with, but the feeling of victory that came with the name of Islam flying high once again, was absolutely untouchable.
And of course, I could only have a glimpse of how much they had to endure, from my 10 day experience there. The persistence of the Palestinians, even in the face of death was something that made me fully comprehend the strength and vehemence of even the littlest of children. Their fervor. Their courage. Their utmost perseverance and Tawakkul, even in the face of imminent danger, was unbelievable. And the thought of what they are subjected to made me shiver with terror, I couldn’t seem to stop try mind from replaying the scene over and over again.
I opened my eyes again now, staring into the darkness as my eyes adjusted to the room light. It was the first time since my Nikah that I had had the dream, and I was aware that the events of yesterday that were still fresh in my mind had probably brought it on. I recalled the accident scene we had witnessed on the way back from the doctors room… the raw emotions that came with it and everything that had been gained and lost through it all.
There was a mixture of aching relief that came with the realization. I was one of the lucky ones. The ones who lived in peace, with no fear of war in my midst. The ones who were still alive, despite everything that had transpired. I was the guy who had seen so much, yet couldn’t make it to even voice my inner most thoughts.
I sighed, as my gaze fell on the two people who I now cared about more than I could describe. The reason for my resistance. The point of my patience. The motivation for the heartfelt emotions that were travelling through my veins. The battle within me was one that I didn’t realise yet that I was fighting.
I turned my head back again, with the light peeping through the gap in the curtain, to reassure myself that I wasn’t imagining the blessing I had been endowed with.
I couldn’t quite believe that here I was, next to my wife as Zaid slept soundly on her chest, just a week after my Nikah. And that when I got it… what Liyaket meant when I had watched him all those months back, and I didn’t even know how it had happened.
Somewhere, in between the sins and the thoughts that haunted my mind, in between winging parenting and tip-toeing around each other’s feelings, we had reached this comfortable place. A place where things were good. Hopeful. A place where I felt like I could finally breathe and fill my lungs with a good dose of gratitude and awe at the great favour of Allah on me.
Unconditional love.
There was a reason that I once told Liyaket that I would be happy alone. It was somewhere in between my breaking things off with Mohsina and his passing and finding Allah had just been the most satiating thing for me.
Also, having felt the way I had felt before, I knew that falling apart over a girl once again, was something like having a huge hole that needs to be endlessly filled. I had battled with every urge, every temptation and every prospective vice before I made it through. It wasn’t that I really thought I’d be happy alone forever. What I was scared of was, was feeling broken to the point of never finding Allah again.
What if I found that I needed the love of someone and then depended on it? What if I actually ended up with the feeling, and actually liked it?
But there I was. I know life can be pretty messy, And as I sat, my heart somewhere precariously close to being on my sleeve, I felt alive in a way that I had never quite felt before.
So let me be honest and just say that I wasn’t ever completely convinced that this was the right thing. That coming back to this place with Mohsina would be the best idea.
But circumstances had happened and we had been somewhat forced to cross paths again. Seeing her, having to interact with her… well, it was different from the image I had conjured up in my mind. The pieces weren’t quite fitting together. Instead of being the money-obsessed Instagram girl, I had seen a new person.
But this was the thing with Duaas, and I remembered Liyakets one with absolute clarity, as I tried to avoid every technique he was using to get me settled.
I never quite knew the meaning of love, of what Liyaket had always wanted for me, until I met Zaid.
And although I had, on many occasions, joked and mocked him about it, when I first held him in my arms as he looked at me like I was the only hero that he would ever know, I couldn’t hold my heart back.
”So this is what you talk about,” I said to him, still looking down at the little human he called his son, not entirely sure if I believed that this child actually belonged to him. “Unconditional love.”
”You got it, bro,” he said, his smile all sentimental and cynical at the same time. “Doesn’t it make you want this too?”
I looked at him and narrowed my eyes, lying through my teeth.
“You think I’m crazy?” I asked, fighting the feeling, as I handed him back over a little sooner than I wanted to. “My life is way too easy without worrying about women and poo nappies.”
He grinned, his dark eyes twinkling with laughter.
”One day,” he said, putting Zaid over his shoulder and smirking. “Someone’s going to make you change your mind and you will eat your words. And that’s going to be my Duaa.”
“No man,” I squealed, still not believing his audacity. “You’re supposed to be my best friend.”
”Exactly,” he said knowingly, a glint in his eye. “And I know what’s best for you, but Allah knows better. I just have a feeling that it’s going to happen in a way you least expect.”
And he was right. Maybe not the way he expected either, but a Du’aa was a Du’aa.
And I knew things weren’t perfect. It had taken a week to get to this point, anyway. The point where all barriers had been crossed, and something very close to love had completely taken over. The point of no return, well, at least for me.
And it had been brought on by a number of things… after the scene of the accident we saw on the way from the doctor had evoked all kinds of emotions. The crumpled mess on the side of the road had made it seem like we were reliving Liyaket and Layyanahs death all over again. We had entered the silent house, walking up to our room, placing Zaid down in the cot I had brought for him from Liyaket’s place, still reeling from the shock of what we had just witnessed.
For once, I wished for noise of a busy household. For people around, to tune out the turbulence in my mind. The house seemed almost lonely without Rabia, who had made a trip to our cousin ten minutes away, on account of us coming home so late.
And of course,I could not stop thinking about what we had seen. For a while, I wished that I did look. At least then, I would have known what had really happened, instead of tormenting myself and thinking of the worst possible scenario.
I had no jokes, pranks or witty remarks to even soften the blow for Mohsina, as she hung up her Abaya and avoided eye contact at all costs.
”You okay?” I had asked, my voice sounding coarse and even peculiar to myself, as I looked at her, full of emotions.
It had been a helluva lot for one day. The advices from the doctor. The fact that Zaid may have an immune deficiency that needed to be confirmed with bloods. She was so strong, for taking this all on… for wanting to go ahead with feeding him, and as I watched her, her hair tied back in a ponytail, I couldn’t help at look at her in admiration, because it just struck me right then how amazing she was and had been all this time.
And yes… I knew that a lot of this was about Zaid and even though she was still silent, I yearned for something… anything… to prove to me that she wasn’t in this just for him.
And as she approached me, and her arms enveloped me one of the most fiercest of hugs, all we did, for a few minutes, was stand there, in silence, knowing exactly how the other felt, seeking some kind of comfort, fully comprehending how painful the entire experience had been.
It felt like just yesterday, when that sting of loss had sunk us to the depths of grief.
It felt like hours ago when I had first gotten the messages, confirming for me that my lifelong friend had lost his life, much earlier than I would have ever imagined. All I needed right then, for the first time ever, was to let myself sink into the consolation that this degree of closeness had brought, and draw every bit of solace that I could.
“Liyaket was part of my life for almost two decades,” I whispered, and I could feel her breathing quicken as I spoke. “I feel like I’ve lost a major part of me, a portion of my heart and my sight. I can’t erase those chunks of my life, and go on like it never happened.”
She nodded, pausing before she spoke.
“I know,” she said softly. “Two decades… Why would you want to erase it?”
I shrugged.
Because it hurt too much to remember.
Two whole decades of the best friend someone could ever have, guiding and advising me, loving me explicitly, always having the most diplomatic and amazing way to look at things. I loved the guy with a helluva part of my heart. I felt incredibly lost without Liyaket.
”I feel like we are losing more and more of them, every day,” I said softly, breathing in her familiar scent. “I want to hold on…”
“I feel like we’re trying to take over their roles,” she said, so softly that I barely heard her.
I nodded, feeling the same way. Were we unintentionally trying to fill their shoes?
“What if we hadn’t lost them?” she asked softly, and I could hear something that I never heard from Mohsina before, in her voice. It was almost like fear… like an uneasiness that had consumed her, as she said it.
“It was Allah’s will,” I murmured into her hair, knowing that was my only consolation… thinking that’s what she wanted to hear, my voice finally steady. “You can’t question-“
”It’s not that,” she said firmly, pulling back and looking up at at me, her eyebrows slightly furrowed and her brown eyes glistening with tears. “All these questions are going through my mind and I can’t help but wonder. Where would I have been then? Where would you have been? If all this hadn’t happened, would I have changed? Would you have even come back…?”
I knew all these questions. I had asked myself the same ones over and over. I had so many more too. What if things didn’t work out? What if she changed her mind? What if she woke up one day and decided that even though I loved Zaid with everything I had, I wasn’t the right guy for her?
But I knew the answers already. For me, things were either black or white. I had decided one thing, before I decided to marry her, and that was what I had to stick to. I had never asked her, but from the day I had seen her in Bossman’s car, I figured that he had some sinister intention and though she denied it at the time… I assumed something had happened between them. And though it had plagued me… Right then, though… well, right then, he was the last person I wanted to talk about.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, shaking my head, my eyes holding her gaze. “What I thought or what I wanted… What happened or who featured… Can we just stop thinking?”
And it was true.
Because she had apologized. I had apologized.
And at times it happens that we apologize, but the trust is still shattered. You forgive them but to look at them the same way, is something that you are tested with every day.
And I had felt that. I felt that deeper than I ever thought I would feel anything, but thats where Maulana Umar got me, when he explained it to me. Allah Azza Wa Jal, in His infinite mercy, not only forgives, but even wipes away the sin completely, as if it never happens. Allah Azza wa Jal, in his astounding love, even commands the writing angels to erase those sins, as if they never happened.
Forgiveness. Only Allah knew how much it had taken out of me… how much it hurt me not to ask… but it was that verse that pushed me to overlook. I had made that promise to myself, because of what Maulana Umar had told me.
She had changed. Whatever had happened, we had to both let go.
And it was no coincidence. This is not something that happens by chance. This was not something that you decide to do on a whim. A desire to turn towards Allah… towards Deen, towards goodness, is only from Him. Only a favour that those who are blessed and truly loved can ever be privileged enough to encompass.
It was nothing short of Taqdeer, and destiny had a funny way of making everything fall into place.
It all seemed surreal for a while, coming home with so much of devastation and loss… as we grew together, as a family, but what I didn’t anticipate was feeling the way I did. It had been the most emotionally taxing day, but somehow, as our hearts took over, I had silenced the concerns that had been in both our minds, broken down the barriers Mohsina had put up and found solace in the comfort that only a wife could offer. The love, that was slowly creeping over my heart and overtaking it… well, it took me by surprise.
And though our road had been rocky, the way it had panned out, it felt almost as if Allah had made it happen in such a way, that the entire journey I had been through was leading up to what was playing out in front of me.
From Yemen ; back home, and then to Palestine, and then coming home again, with the intention of such great responsibility, I thought that through everything I had been through and seen, I was ready to go all into this.
A new era was approaching, and my resolution was to put everything else behind me, and head in, with a clear motive.
Like at the time of Hijrat, when the Lion of Allah, Hadhrat Hamzah (RadiAllahu Anho) entered the borders of Madinah, he knew that there was much opportunity for the Muslims. Within his breast was Imaan so strong and steady, that the first flag in Islam was handed to him. Within them all, was forgiveness, and hope, and a hope for a new tomorrow.
It was just that, as I walked out the room with my phone in hand, in the early hours of the morning, I now felt more on edge than ever.
Within me, I was fighting a bigger battle. I felt on edge. Threatened, and unwavering. My resolve to protect Zaid from Hashim was even stronger now, than ever. That lion within me… the one that sometimes made its way to forefront in the most trying situations… was bearing its teeth again.
I wasn’t one to back down. I picked up my phone, wondering if I should call him back right then. Let him know that I won’t stand for anything. Be the man I felt myself become, over these past few months.
But as much as I wanted to, something within me held me back, and I stopped myself. Maybe it was Imraan’s words, that had told me not to ask for trouble with him. Maybe it was the thought of starting something that I didn’t yet have the power to finish. All I knew was this Jihaad was something I would fight with my heart and soul.
And for me… as I kept this in mind… I knew that if I had to challenge Hashim from that point on, life would never be the same again. Putting up a fight could harm more people than I wanted. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t help but stop myself, because I knew that nothing good could come out of it.
I knew people like Hashim and I knew how they worked.
But now, as I looked at the caller ID glaring at me again, a wave of ferocity washed over me as I renewed my intent. No matter what. No matter how. I knew that I would stand by my word.
No matter what happened or who came in the way, I was going to protect them from every bit of it, with every ounce of me, but I was also fully aware that I couldn’t ever let Mohsina get an inkling of this.
And in doing that, as I fought my inner battles, what I didn’t know was that I was risking losing everything else in the process…
Authors note: I was aiming for a bit of a change up with perspective. Will try and post sooner this week InshaAllah … x
Abu Qatada reported Allah’s Messenger (may peace be upon him) as saying: A good vision is from Allah and a bad dream (hulm) is from the satan; so if one of you sees anything (in a dream which he dislikes, he should spit on his left side thrice and seek refuge with Allah from its evil, and then it will never harm him.
Sunnah of Forgiveness:
With the New Islamic Year already here, and these auspicious days, one of the lessons gfrom the Seearh is how Nabi (SAW) forgave his oppressors, and let go of old whims.
A sublime quality that Nabi (SAW) inculcated into his life on various occasions, and especially on the occasion of Hijrah.
Someone asked Ali (RA): “How much was the Sahaba’s love for the Prophet (Sallalahu Alaihi wa Sallam)”
He replied: “By Allah! To us The Prophet (Sallalahu Alaihi wa Sallam) was dearer to us than our riches our children and our mothers, and was more cherishable than a drink of water at the time of severest thirst.”
SubhaanAllah… what perfect imaan they had… May Allah enable us to practise..💕
#RevivetheSunnahofbeingGrateful
#RevivetheSunnahofQur’aanTilaawat
#ReviveSunnahofDuaa
#SunnahofMaintainingTies
#RevivetheSunnahofSadaqah
#RevivetheSunnahofGivingGifts
#RevivetheSunnahofGoodAkhlaaq
#RevivetheSunnahbeforeSleeping
#RevivetheSunnahofGuardingtheGaze
#RevivetheSunnahofLickingtheFingers
#RevivetheSunnahofMiswaak
#RevivetheSunnahofEnteringtheToilet
#RevivetheSunnahofSpeakingGood
#RevivetheSunnahofUsingtheRighthand
FB/Instagram: @thejourneyingmuslimah



Shewh.. Masha Allah.. What an intense post.. It’s like i felt Hamzah’s every emotion.. It’s just sad that i had to read this over 3 sittings.. #sigh #mum life.. What’s a story without drama.. Why is Hishaam bothering them, not like Zaid sitting with a gold mine behind his name or anything like that.. Leave the poor kiddo to be.. But oh well.. Story is yours to tell.. Anxiously awaiting to see what happens next..
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It was quite emotional writing it. Sometimes we need to be jerked out of complacent reality that we get stuck in.. open our eyes to how privileged we really are…
Hahahaha… lol, shame, I’m so sorry, one post in three sittings is traumatic 🙈
Yes, we shall see. . ❤️
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No no no..this is not Zaid sitting on a pot of gold.. this is someone who lost his way.. because mohsina decided she didn’t want him
I believe it’s all the bossman who is up to it and he wants revenge.. I believe we need Nani’s rolling pin to hit him right on his silly head..
Ok I think I’m overthinking but this is intense.. shew!!!!
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You may be into something there but we will see ..
Nani would have been glad to do it too, if she knew about the sinister intentions. 🙈
Shukran sister…
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The dream sent shivers up my spine. Really makes our problems pale in comparison. May Allah be with all those who are battling, strengthen them even further, and show them ease in their situation in the most beautiful manner.
Subhaanallah..Makes me think of the hadith in which it’s mentioned that when the people of Jannah will see the rewards for their difficulties, they’d wish their skins were cut open with scissors..Now we make du’aa for them, but in the Aakhirah they will be the enviable ones.
Hamza should tell Mohsina. Hope it doesn’t become an issue.
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Something we need to be constantly reminded about. We always feel like our problem are the biggest ones, you’re so right. Aameen!
SubhaanAllah… what an analogy… most definitely, their Hannah is being made through the qurbaani…
If only we truly could understand 💔
Well, that we will see about…
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