Bismillahir Rahmanir Rahim
When I packed my bags, I packed a lot of tissues expecting that I would need them when I arrived at my destination and knowing that I wouldn't know where to get any. And I did need them, but not for the reasons I anticipated. I find that the older I get the more frequently I need them, but for reasons that I never succumbed to before.
When we're young, we look at the chaos in the world around us and we see our parents' worry for us. As we grow, our concern becomes less about their reactions and fears for us and instead becomes our own - for them and for others. We try to protect ourselves from the problems, but it seems impossible because we soon learn that we are indeed the problem.
How can we be so heartless? How can we be so selfish? We call ourselves intelligent creatures. Indeed, this is from the favours of our Lord, but we are ingrates. He gives us our intellect and we use it to harm His creations. And yet we know, we know very well that the pain of another is no less than the pain of our own. And yet we persevere. Why, tell me, why are children sleeping on streets? Why are their homes blown to smithereens? Why are innocent men being imprisoned and tortured? Why do men abuse their wives? Why do wives cheat on their husbands? Why is one person's life more valuable than another's? Why? Why?
I don't know why.
Should I know why? If I know the reasons, will I be able to rationalize them? Will it ease the heart and cease the tears? No. No it won't. Because there is no excuse for injustice. There is no excuse for oppression. There is no excuse for causing intentional harm and failing to seek solutions.
Other than discarded tissues, I don't know how to make sense of this world. We hear and we try to obey ya Rabb. But we fail. So we, too, are no more innocent, though our crimes have different names.
Prophet Nuh, peace be upon him, called his people to guidance and rectifying their states. For 950 years he invited them to change their ways, to return to their Lord, to make aright the grave wrongs that they cradled in their hearts and lives. After 950 years, they met their end in the flood. And now, what can they say for themselves? Their lives in this world are insignificant, moreso when compared to infinity. Even their 950 years of subjecting a Prophet of God to harm all passed. This is Bani Adam. O Children of Adam. O Children of Adam. Where are we?
Babies are being born into this world, and I hope for each and every one of them to know the delights of this world, as I hope for all those who are living. There are only two delights. The first is to know one's Lord, and the second is to love one's Lord. Most of us don't have an inkling of what these mean.
Which brings me to my final point. Conversation. We converse with ourselves all day, every day. In our sleep, we too venture with our souls following their tunes. Our dialogue continues. But in the great silence of the night, when the mind tries to hush and that inner voice tires, we have emptiness. If in all our conversations with ourselves, our world gets no better. Homeless children are no warmer at night. Oppressed people are no more free. Families are no more loving. If such is the case, then we must know that there is a great conversation missing in the picture of our lives.
And He says to us in those blessed days of Ramadhan, come. Come. And our response should have been and should continue to be Labayk Allahumma labayk! - At Your service, O Lord. Here I am! But we don't respond because we're not listening for the call. We can't hear it. We've silenced it in ourselves through our ignorance. When He says to call on Him, the All Hearing, the All Seeing, we respond with heartlessness except when met by trials. Why? Because perhaps in times of ease we think ourselves self-sufficient. La. La.
We said. We gathered together and said balaa! - yes! Our Lord addressed us, "Am I not your Lord?" And we said "Yes you are." But we don't even know what that means. We don't even know what that means. Ya Allah...
Ya Rabb, I don't understand this world, and I don't see my place in it. I want nothing of it except Your good pleasure, for me and my loved ones and all those who have even a bit of heart left. I see why this world is a trial, ya Salam, ya Aziz, ya Jabbar. We ask only You for peace. We ask only You for strength. We ask only You for protection from the evils of ourselves and of others. If You are not pleased with us, there is nothing for us to take from this world. Nothing. Guide us to You and to that which pleases You. Let us not despair in the condition that we have put upon ourselves. Teach us what it means to have a good opinion of You. Ya Allah, nasaluka wahdak. We ask only You ya Allah. Ighfir lana wa irhamna ya Rabb al 'Alameen. Ameen.
اللهم إنا نسألك رضاك والجنة، ونعوذ بك من سخطك والنار
آمين
*****
Something to think about...
When I packed my bags, I packed a lot of tissues expecting that I would need them when I arrived at my destination and knowing that I wouldn't know where to get any. And I did need them, but not for the reasons I anticipated. I find that the older I get the more frequently I need them, but for reasons that I never succumbed to before.
When we're young, we look at the chaos in the world around us and we see our parents' worry for us. As we grow, our concern becomes less about their reactions and fears for us and instead becomes our own - for them and for others. We try to protect ourselves from the problems, but it seems impossible because we soon learn that we are indeed the problem.
How can we be so heartless? How can we be so selfish? We call ourselves intelligent creatures. Indeed, this is from the favours of our Lord, but we are ingrates. He gives us our intellect and we use it to harm His creations. And yet we know, we know very well that the pain of another is no less than the pain of our own. And yet we persevere. Why, tell me, why are children sleeping on streets? Why are their homes blown to smithereens? Why are innocent men being imprisoned and tortured? Why do men abuse their wives? Why do wives cheat on their husbands? Why is one person's life more valuable than another's? Why? Why?
I don't know why.
Should I know why? If I know the reasons, will I be able to rationalize them? Will it ease the heart and cease the tears? No. No it won't. Because there is no excuse for injustice. There is no excuse for oppression. There is no excuse for causing intentional harm and failing to seek solutions.
Other than discarded tissues, I don't know how to make sense of this world. We hear and we try to obey ya Rabb. But we fail. So we, too, are no more innocent, though our crimes have different names.
Prophet Nuh, peace be upon him, called his people to guidance and rectifying their states. For 950 years he invited them to change their ways, to return to their Lord, to make aright the grave wrongs that they cradled in their hearts and lives. After 950 years, they met their end in the flood. And now, what can they say for themselves? Their lives in this world are insignificant, moreso when compared to infinity. Even their 950 years of subjecting a Prophet of God to harm all passed. This is Bani Adam. O Children of Adam. O Children of Adam. Where are we?
Babies are being born into this world, and I hope for each and every one of them to know the delights of this world, as I hope for all those who are living. There are only two delights. The first is to know one's Lord, and the second is to love one's Lord. Most of us don't have an inkling of what these mean.
Which brings me to my final point. Conversation. We converse with ourselves all day, every day. In our sleep, we too venture with our souls following their tunes. Our dialogue continues. But in the great silence of the night, when the mind tries to hush and that inner voice tires, we have emptiness. If in all our conversations with ourselves, our world gets no better. Homeless children are no warmer at night. Oppressed people are no more free. Families are no more loving. If such is the case, then we must know that there is a great conversation missing in the picture of our lives.
And He says to us in those blessed days of Ramadhan, come. Come. And our response should have been and should continue to be Labayk Allahumma labayk! - At Your service, O Lord. Here I am! But we don't respond because we're not listening for the call. We can't hear it. We've silenced it in ourselves through our ignorance. When He says to call on Him, the All Hearing, the All Seeing, we respond with heartlessness except when met by trials. Why? Because perhaps in times of ease we think ourselves self-sufficient. La. La.
We said. We gathered together and said balaa! - yes! Our Lord addressed us, "Am I not your Lord?" And we said "Yes you are." But we don't even know what that means. We don't even know what that means. Ya Allah...
Ya Rabb, I don't understand this world, and I don't see my place in it. I want nothing of it except Your good pleasure, for me and my loved ones and all those who have even a bit of heart left. I see why this world is a trial, ya Salam, ya Aziz, ya Jabbar. We ask only You for peace. We ask only You for strength. We ask only You for protection from the evils of ourselves and of others. If You are not pleased with us, there is nothing for us to take from this world. Nothing. Guide us to You and to that which pleases You. Let us not despair in the condition that we have put upon ourselves. Teach us what it means to have a good opinion of You. Ya Allah, nasaluka wahdak. We ask only You ya Allah. Ighfir lana wa irhamna ya Rabb al 'Alameen. Ameen.
آمين
*****
Something to think about...
1 comment:
subhanallah... i liked reading this.
rare pearls do breed rare
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