The Prophet’s hands, silken smooth and soft to touch,
sometimes they need those hands so much,
to feel them clasp their own, let them know they’re not alone.
The Prophet’s hands, can bind husband and wife,
remind them why they share a life,
clasp them both upon his heart, gently help them make a start
to hold each other as they’d hold the Prophet’s hands.
- The Prophet's Hands, Dawud Wharsnby Ali
I think the above verse applies to our relationships with all our close loved ones, not just husband and wife, though I do think that is the relationship that is often taken the most for granted. In our relationships with our close loved ones, I think we often forget what a great blessing it is to be able to be in their company, to benefit from their good qualities and wisdom, and to be able to love them, and be loved by them.
If we could keep the beautiful words of Dawud Wharnsby Ali close to our hearts every time we interact with our loved ones, if we could learn "to hold each other as [we'd] hold the Prophet's hands" wouldn't our relationships be so much more meaningful, so much more spiritual? I feel like we often get so absorbed in fulfilling our daily obligations - work, school, homework, housework - that the stress we feel completing those obligations is transferred into our attitude toward our loved ones. So instead of being grateful, spending time, doing something meaningful together, we postpone that for another day and talk to each other curtly and in my case, sarcastically. Not as if this person is a gift from Allah that can be taken away in a moment. Most importantly, I've noticed that we tend to have more mercy when dealing with strangers, or acquaintances, and less mercy when dealing with our own family members. And treating our loved ones with love, respect, and most importantly, mercy is a duty that is much higher than any duty at work, or school, or household chore.
Something to think about, huh? May Allah reward Dawud Wharnsby Ali and all artists for reminding us of such a simple, yet easily forgettable duty.
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
Saturday, March 24, 2007
On the passing of Dr. Umar's mother
I missed Dr. Umar terribly tonight. Tariq, Iman and I went to a Webb Foundation event. It was a fantastic event, a mawlid with Dawud Wharnsby Ali leading the songs. Mashallah he has a beautiful voice. But Dr. Umar's absence was always on the back of my mind. He left for Kansas on Wednesday to be with his mother during her last days. I've been thinking of him ever since he left, but his absence today was very hard for me. I know how much he would have enjoyed hearing and singing with Dawud Wharnsby Ali. Heck, he loves singing with Tariq and Saqib, and they are nothing compared to DWA.
And then, during the break, I nearly cried when Mazen announced that Dr. Umar's mother passed away an hour ago...I only met her once, and didn't have much of a relationship with her, but something in me made me feel so sad, so empty that the woman who raised such a beautiful man has returned to Allah. That my beloved teacher, my dear friend, my spiritual father, has lost a part of him, a part of him that left the world when she left.
I missed him so much tonight. Just thinking about what he is going through right now, having lost his mother - and not just any mother, but a mother he was super close to - makes me feel so empty. I want so much to be there for him, yet, I know I will not know what to say when I actually do see him. What do you say to a man who is so much wiser than you, so much stronger than you, so much more patient than you, so much more content than you with God's will? What words can you possibly impart that can serve as any comfort?
I pray for him and his family to have strength during this time and for his mother's comfort in the hereafter. I pray that Allah forgives her for her shortcomings, and rewards her with Junnah for all the good that she has done in her life, and I pray that she is rewarded for all of Dr. Umar's good deeds as well, by virtue of being his mother. And I pray for Dr. Umar and his family, that they are all granted long, healthy, happy, and successful lives and that they are rewarded for all the good that they do. Ameen.
Dr. Umar's absence today reminded me of what a blessing it is to have him here with us, yet scared me at the same time because I know our time together in this world is limited. There are no words to describe how important and essential his presence is in our lives, how valuable his friendship is. Alhamdulillah. I only pray that Tariq, Iman and I continue to benefit from the barakah of having him be so close to us, and that we do not take for granted even one minute that we have with him.
And then, during the break, I nearly cried when Mazen announced that Dr. Umar's mother passed away an hour ago...I only met her once, and didn't have much of a relationship with her, but something in me made me feel so sad, so empty that the woman who raised such a beautiful man has returned to Allah. That my beloved teacher, my dear friend, my spiritual father, has lost a part of him, a part of him that left the world when she left.
I missed him so much tonight. Just thinking about what he is going through right now, having lost his mother - and not just any mother, but a mother he was super close to - makes me feel so empty. I want so much to be there for him, yet, I know I will not know what to say when I actually do see him. What do you say to a man who is so much wiser than you, so much stronger than you, so much more patient than you, so much more content than you with God's will? What words can you possibly impart that can serve as any comfort?
I pray for him and his family to have strength during this time and for his mother's comfort in the hereafter. I pray that Allah forgives her for her shortcomings, and rewards her with Junnah for all the good that she has done in her life, and I pray that she is rewarded for all of Dr. Umar's good deeds as well, by virtue of being his mother. And I pray for Dr. Umar and his family, that they are all granted long, healthy, happy, and successful lives and that they are rewarded for all the good that they do. Ameen.
Dr. Umar's absence today reminded me of what a blessing it is to have him here with us, yet scared me at the same time because I know our time together in this world is limited. There are no words to describe how important and essential his presence is in our lives, how valuable his friendship is. Alhamdulillah. I only pray that Tariq, Iman and I continue to benefit from the barakah of having him be so close to us, and that we do not take for granted even one minute that we have with him.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Fleeting Romance, Searching for love
Pyar toh hain magan, pyar toh hain junoon
Sirf milne se milta nahin hai sukoon....
- Junoon, Pyar Bina
Soul needs beauty for a soul mate...
What the soul wants, the soul waits.
I could never take a chance
Of losing love to find romance
In the mysterious distance of a man and a woman
- U2, A Man and a Woman
Alhamdullilah I've been married for six and a half years now. To some, that may seem short. To others, that may seem like forever. As for myself, I go back and forth. Sometimes I think my marriage is still very young and I feel like it happened only yesterday, and other times, I can't remember what life was like before I was married.
I do know that before I got married, and even probably a good two or three years into my marriage, I was a super hopeless romantic and believed in this fairy tale notion of love, romance, and soul mates. Its funny that I did, because thats not at all how it happened for me. I mean, don't get me wrong, my husband did his share of trying to be romantic but fell into a huge cheese trap instead most of the time. But, I appreciate his efforts. But if you asked me how I wanted it to be before I got married, I would have related a long and dramatic Bollywood type love story and proposal. Even after I got married, I would watch all the cheesy romantic movies, and wasn't able to see past the flowers, small gifts, and surprises as romance. My husband, much like most other typical guys, is not really into the whole flower and surprise thing, so it didn't happen very often.
As my marriage matured, I learned more about life, and through my various conversations with married people, single people, divorced people, I learned that reality is closer to how its described above by Junoon and U2. Love is not this fairytale story where you are constantly showered with gifts and romantic whisperings. There is no ONE person out there that is your soul mate and only he can connect with you. Sometimes I feel like we all believe in the existence of this one person, and in our search for that one person, we pass up opportunities that could have been our happiness. Whether that opportunity is passing up a proposal that just didn't fit your criteria, or whether that opportunity is not giving your all or feeling "it" in a marriage that you have been blessed with. We think that only a certain type of person will make us happy, but really, there's no formula. I wish there was, it would make every thing so much easier.
Romance is not how many times a month you get flowers or surprises, its actually the tiny little displays of mercy you show your spouse every day. Yet I was (and sometimes still am) guilty of searching for the fairytale romance, when all the time, I had something much more valuable, much more substantive in front of me all along - a meaningful relationship and love. I don't mean to sound all cheesy so don't take this the wrong way. I remember when I heard the chorus to U2's A Man and a Woman for the first time, 'I could never take a chance, of losing love to find romance' and realized how true this really was. Many hear this and think its too bittersweet, that it's a verse full of hopelessness - that its talking about settling, and accepting a routine, safe, life. But really, your soul mate is a person you share love with, thats what makes him your soulmate. Not romance. And by saying, 'I could never take a chance of losing love to find romance,' its appreciating that strength and spirituality that such a relationship brings into your life and admits that romance is fleeting while love is constant.
But is love constant? What makes people fall out of love? Or stop loving each other? Or stop loving each other the way they used to? I know enough people who are unhappy in their marriages to know that theres a truth to Junoon's 'sirf milne se milta nahin hain sukoon.' So many people I know marry their "soulmate" or their dream spouse, only to find themselves lost three or five or ten years down the road. You can't just find love and expect everything to be as peaches and cream as it is for the first 6 months of your relationship. It's not just about finding love and expecting everything else to just fall into place. It's about working together to make the relationship meaningful, and about loving each other's hearts, along with all the flaws associated with that heart. Its about finding the good in an imperfect person, and making them to be perfect in your eyes. No spouse or marriage is perfect from the day you marry them, and they never become perfect throughout your marriage, but its those imperfections and your ability to love them what makes them perfect for you. That's where the sukoon comes from.
Sirf milne se milta nahin hai sukoon....
- Junoon, Pyar Bina
Soul needs beauty for a soul mate...
What the soul wants, the soul waits.
I could never take a chance
Of losing love to find romance
In the mysterious distance of a man and a woman
- U2, A Man and a Woman
Alhamdullilah I've been married for six and a half years now. To some, that may seem short. To others, that may seem like forever. As for myself, I go back and forth. Sometimes I think my marriage is still very young and I feel like it happened only yesterday, and other times, I can't remember what life was like before I was married.
I do know that before I got married, and even probably a good two or three years into my marriage, I was a super hopeless romantic and believed in this fairy tale notion of love, romance, and soul mates. Its funny that I did, because thats not at all how it happened for me. I mean, don't get me wrong, my husband did his share of trying to be romantic but fell into a huge cheese trap instead most of the time. But, I appreciate his efforts. But if you asked me how I wanted it to be before I got married, I would have related a long and dramatic Bollywood type love story and proposal. Even after I got married, I would watch all the cheesy romantic movies, and wasn't able to see past the flowers, small gifts, and surprises as romance. My husband, much like most other typical guys, is not really into the whole flower and surprise thing, so it didn't happen very often.
As my marriage matured, I learned more about life, and through my various conversations with married people, single people, divorced people, I learned that reality is closer to how its described above by Junoon and U2. Love is not this fairytale story where you are constantly showered with gifts and romantic whisperings. There is no ONE person out there that is your soul mate and only he can connect with you. Sometimes I feel like we all believe in the existence of this one person, and in our search for that one person, we pass up opportunities that could have been our happiness. Whether that opportunity is passing up a proposal that just didn't fit your criteria, or whether that opportunity is not giving your all or feeling "it" in a marriage that you have been blessed with. We think that only a certain type of person will make us happy, but really, there's no formula. I wish there was, it would make every thing so much easier.
Romance is not how many times a month you get flowers or surprises, its actually the tiny little displays of mercy you show your spouse every day. Yet I was (and sometimes still am) guilty of searching for the fairytale romance, when all the time, I had something much more valuable, much more substantive in front of me all along - a meaningful relationship and love. I don't mean to sound all cheesy so don't take this the wrong way. I remember when I heard the chorus to U2's A Man and a Woman for the first time, 'I could never take a chance, of losing love to find romance' and realized how true this really was. Many hear this and think its too bittersweet, that it's a verse full of hopelessness - that its talking about settling, and accepting a routine, safe, life. But really, your soul mate is a person you share love with, thats what makes him your soulmate. Not romance. And by saying, 'I could never take a chance of losing love to find romance,' its appreciating that strength and spirituality that such a relationship brings into your life and admits that romance is fleeting while love is constant.
But is love constant? What makes people fall out of love? Or stop loving each other? Or stop loving each other the way they used to? I know enough people who are unhappy in their marriages to know that theres a truth to Junoon's 'sirf milne se milta nahin hain sukoon.' So many people I know marry their "soulmate" or their dream spouse, only to find themselves lost three or five or ten years down the road. You can't just find love and expect everything to be as peaches and cream as it is for the first 6 months of your relationship. It's not just about finding love and expecting everything else to just fall into place. It's about working together to make the relationship meaningful, and about loving each other's hearts, along with all the flaws associated with that heart. Its about finding the good in an imperfect person, and making them to be perfect in your eyes. No spouse or marriage is perfect from the day you marry them, and they never become perfect throughout your marriage, but its those imperfections and your ability to love them what makes them perfect for you. That's where the sukoon comes from.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
The Future of Race
In one of my classes we are discussing the concept of race - is it what we see or what is inside of us - in other words, is it a social construct or biology? Perhaps its both.
I am not sure which side I'm on - I can see it being all about social and cultural identity, but then, I can't deny how there are many physical features that are common for people of a certain race. I consider myself American but can't deny my south asian roots. It's easy for me to relate to that part of my identity because its so close to home - my parents are immigrants, and we visit Pakistan frequently, still speak the language, eat the food, watch the tv.
What will it be like for my daughter? For my grandchildren? For my great-grandchildren? Will the "face" of my family 4 or 5 generations from now be completely different - with no sign of south asian-ness at all? As a child of immigrant parents, I want to make sure my children don't feel "foreign" to this country as I did. I want them to feel American from the very beginning, not when they become adults and realize that there is no difference between them and their white peers. But at the same tie, I value certain traditions from the desi culture, that I already see fading away in my generation, and especially in my daughter's generation.
Is it time to let go of our asian identity and fully embrace our american identity? Can there be a healthy fusion between the two? Already, we have limited wearing desi clothes to weddings and big parties, we only speak Urdu to our grandparents, and so of us even have grandparents who are fluent in English.
Don't get me wrong, I am not one for not assimilating into the culture of one's country. I am so proud of being American and look forward to living the rest of my life here. And I am excited at the prospect of inter-racial marriages and that eventually, it will be impossible to categorize people into distinct races, at least in this country, since everyone will be a little bit of everything.
That's the beauty of America. It exciting to imagine a world with the possibility of the concept of "race" being inapplicable and no longer "useful."
I am not sure which side I'm on - I can see it being all about social and cultural identity, but then, I can't deny how there are many physical features that are common for people of a certain race. I consider myself American but can't deny my south asian roots. It's easy for me to relate to that part of my identity because its so close to home - my parents are immigrants, and we visit Pakistan frequently, still speak the language, eat the food, watch the tv.
What will it be like for my daughter? For my grandchildren? For my great-grandchildren? Will the "face" of my family 4 or 5 generations from now be completely different - with no sign of south asian-ness at all? As a child of immigrant parents, I want to make sure my children don't feel "foreign" to this country as I did. I want them to feel American from the very beginning, not when they become adults and realize that there is no difference between them and their white peers. But at the same tie, I value certain traditions from the desi culture, that I already see fading away in my generation, and especially in my daughter's generation.
Is it time to let go of our asian identity and fully embrace our american identity? Can there be a healthy fusion between the two? Already, we have limited wearing desi clothes to weddings and big parties, we only speak Urdu to our grandparents, and so of us even have grandparents who are fluent in English.
Don't get me wrong, I am not one for not assimilating into the culture of one's country. I am so proud of being American and look forward to living the rest of my life here. And I am excited at the prospect of inter-racial marriages and that eventually, it will be impossible to categorize people into distinct races, at least in this country, since everyone will be a little bit of everything.
That's the beauty of America. It exciting to imagine a world with the possibility of the concept of "race" being inapplicable and no longer "useful."
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
10 years ago....
It was 1997. Wow. 1997 feels like it was yesterday. Really. In 1997 I was a sophomore in highschool. 2 years away from graduation. From getting engaged. From starting college at U of C. 3 years away from getting married. Where has the time gone?
Time is interesting. Because on the one hand, 1997 seems so long ago that I can' remember much about it except that I turned 16 that year - and that too, because I did the math. But on the other hand, when someone says 10 years ago it was 1997 - its like - whoa - that was THAT long ago?
How quickly time passes by - and how quickly we let it pass by. How quickly we forget the daily lessons we learn or the experiences that especially impact us....just thinking of all I have experienced in the past three years - graduation, pregnancy, childbirth, motherhood, grad school, Hajj - I know these experiences will fade into the background and 10 years from now, in 2017, I will be wondering where the time went and what it was I actually did in those 10 years.
In 1997 I used to look up to my older cousins and other older friends in the community who were 25, 26 years old and used to not be able to imagine where I'd be when I would be 25. I'm 25 now, almost 26 - are 16 year olds looking to me now and wondering the same thing? Do they see my life, my experiences, and wonder what their life will be like when they're my age?
Sometimes I forget I'm 25. I find myself looking up to "older" people and realizing that these people are now my peers, my equals, or maybe even younger than me. Sometimes I am surprised to hear that some people are as young as they are.
Time is interesting. Because on the one hand, 1997 seems so long ago that I can' remember much about it except that I turned 16 that year - and that too, because I did the math. But on the other hand, when someone says 10 years ago it was 1997 - its like - whoa - that was THAT long ago?
How quickly time passes by - and how quickly we let it pass by. How quickly we forget the daily lessons we learn or the experiences that especially impact us....just thinking of all I have experienced in the past three years - graduation, pregnancy, childbirth, motherhood, grad school, Hajj - I know these experiences will fade into the background and 10 years from now, in 2017, I will be wondering where the time went and what it was I actually did in those 10 years.
In 1997 I used to look up to my older cousins and other older friends in the community who were 25, 26 years old and used to not be able to imagine where I'd be when I would be 25. I'm 25 now, almost 26 - are 16 year olds looking to me now and wondering the same thing? Do they see my life, my experiences, and wonder what their life will be like when they're my age?
Sometimes I forget I'm 25. I find myself looking up to "older" people and realizing that these people are now my peers, my equals, or maybe even younger than me. Sometimes I am surprised to hear that some people are as young as they are.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
A Struggle to the Journey
So its been about 3 weeks since I have returned from Hajj (well maybe two and a half) and I keep having dreams - either about the people we went with, or the places we visited, or just traveling in general. It seems so blurry now - like a really long dream.
I am still trying to understand everything and Dr. Umar had warned me it will take time. Subhanallah its amazing how my duas are being answered. One of the duas I made most often was for Iman, who I had left behind with my parents and in laws. I kept praying to God to keep her safe, healthy, and happy while we were gone, but more importantly, to let her return to her normal self when we returned and not be traumatized by our leaving her for three weeks. Alhamdullilah, my prayers were answered. It is as if we never left.
Leaving her was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. Last year, there was the possibility of Nawawi going to Hajj. When it didn't work out, they said they would definitely try for 2006. So Tariq told me, I want to go. I was the one, however, who didn't feel comfortable. I couldn't leave my daughter behind. Especially for two weeks. Looking back now, I realize that me not wanting to leave her behind was more for me, not for her. Kids are resilient, they grow up and adjust whether their parents are there or not. Throughout the year, the idea of going to Hajj kept coming into our conversations. We didn't travel as we usually do in the summer so that we could save our money just in case we decided to go to Hajj. It was something that Tariq and I didn't see eye to eye - I didn't understand why he was so cool about leaving her behind and he didn't understand why I was so nervous about leaving her behind. I told him to start considering the prospect of going alone and taking me later. Yet there was always something in my heart that made me feel like I shouldn't pass up the opportunity either.
As Hajj came closer, I started to become more open to the idea, and then when Nawawi announced its intention to go, my struggle began. Is it selfish of me to leave my child behind just so I can go on Hajj with Dr. Umar? Or is it selfish of me to want to stay with my child and not go to find God? I kept struggling with these questions until a friend put it all in perspective. She told me, "You know Nadiah, we could never love our kids enough, but at the same time, we love them so much, that they often take the place in our hearts that should only be for Allah and His Messenger." Wow. Is this the case with me? Am I so involved with my child that I have lost perspective of who she really belongs to? Of who we all really belong to? Is the fact that I don't want to leave her behind just a control issue? That I don't want to give "control" to someone else? By staying with her, and not going to Hajj, am I indicating that I don't have trust in Allah to take care of her while I am away, and if I should pass while I'm there, to take care of her for her entire life?
I kept struggling with all these questions as I continued to make istikhaara about leaving Iman. I kept asking Allah to give me a clear sign, to make it so the decision was already made. The situation had gotten a little bit more complicated since Nawawi had recently announced that the trip was actually going to be 3 weeks long instead of 2. I can't leave Iman for 3 weeks can I? But then again, its only 1 more week than 2. By now, Tariq had also started struggling with the idea of leaving her behind for so long.
Dr. Umar called me to discuss something I was working on for him, and then, the Hajj trip was brought up. I explained to him our dilemma, that we were really undecided because we didn't know if we should leave Iman behind. And his response was so simple, but in that moment, my decision was made that we had to go. He said to me, "In any case, I can't make this decision for you - you know your daughter better than anyone else and what is best for her. What I do know, though, is when you make the Hajj - that is a woman's jihad - and in fulfilling that obligation, Allah opens doors that you never even imagined."
I called Tariq right away and said that we couldn't walk away from this opportunity anymore. We had to just say Bismillah and trust God that He would make everything right. Alhamdulillah He did. The morning we left, Iman was so happy. More than usual. She smiled so sweetly as we said goodbye, so happily. I can never be grateful enough for all the blessings of this journey, that started from that morning. Not only did He take care of our daughter, His gift to us, but He let us experience such a beautiful journey in the greatest of company. A few days after I returned, Iman and I were alone in the house, and we had just finished lunch, and all of a sudden, she said to me, "Thank you Mommy." I asked her, "Thank you for what Baby?" And she so sweetly, genuinely, said, "Thank you for going to Hajj Mommy."
I am still trying to understand everything and Dr. Umar had warned me it will take time. Subhanallah its amazing how my duas are being answered. One of the duas I made most often was for Iman, who I had left behind with my parents and in laws. I kept praying to God to keep her safe, healthy, and happy while we were gone, but more importantly, to let her return to her normal self when we returned and not be traumatized by our leaving her for three weeks. Alhamdullilah, my prayers were answered. It is as if we never left.
Leaving her was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. Last year, there was the possibility of Nawawi going to Hajj. When it didn't work out, they said they would definitely try for 2006. So Tariq told me, I want to go. I was the one, however, who didn't feel comfortable. I couldn't leave my daughter behind. Especially for two weeks. Looking back now, I realize that me not wanting to leave her behind was more for me, not for her. Kids are resilient, they grow up and adjust whether their parents are there or not. Throughout the year, the idea of going to Hajj kept coming into our conversations. We didn't travel as we usually do in the summer so that we could save our money just in case we decided to go to Hajj. It was something that Tariq and I didn't see eye to eye - I didn't understand why he was so cool about leaving her behind and he didn't understand why I was so nervous about leaving her behind. I told him to start considering the prospect of going alone and taking me later. Yet there was always something in my heart that made me feel like I shouldn't pass up the opportunity either.
As Hajj came closer, I started to become more open to the idea, and then when Nawawi announced its intention to go, my struggle began. Is it selfish of me to leave my child behind just so I can go on Hajj with Dr. Umar? Or is it selfish of me to want to stay with my child and not go to find God? I kept struggling with these questions until a friend put it all in perspective. She told me, "You know Nadiah, we could never love our kids enough, but at the same time, we love them so much, that they often take the place in our hearts that should only be for Allah and His Messenger." Wow. Is this the case with me? Am I so involved with my child that I have lost perspective of who she really belongs to? Of who we all really belong to? Is the fact that I don't want to leave her behind just a control issue? That I don't want to give "control" to someone else? By staying with her, and not going to Hajj, am I indicating that I don't have trust in Allah to take care of her while I am away, and if I should pass while I'm there, to take care of her for her entire life?
I kept struggling with all these questions as I continued to make istikhaara about leaving Iman. I kept asking Allah to give me a clear sign, to make it so the decision was already made. The situation had gotten a little bit more complicated since Nawawi had recently announced that the trip was actually going to be 3 weeks long instead of 2. I can't leave Iman for 3 weeks can I? But then again, its only 1 more week than 2. By now, Tariq had also started struggling with the idea of leaving her behind for so long.
Dr. Umar called me to discuss something I was working on for him, and then, the Hajj trip was brought up. I explained to him our dilemma, that we were really undecided because we didn't know if we should leave Iman behind. And his response was so simple, but in that moment, my decision was made that we had to go. He said to me, "In any case, I can't make this decision for you - you know your daughter better than anyone else and what is best for her. What I do know, though, is when you make the Hajj - that is a woman's jihad - and in fulfilling that obligation, Allah opens doors that you never even imagined."
I called Tariq right away and said that we couldn't walk away from this opportunity anymore. We had to just say Bismillah and trust God that He would make everything right. Alhamdulillah He did. The morning we left, Iman was so happy. More than usual. She smiled so sweetly as we said goodbye, so happily. I can never be grateful enough for all the blessings of this journey, that started from that morning. Not only did He take care of our daughter, His gift to us, but He let us experience such a beautiful journey in the greatest of company. A few days after I returned, Iman and I were alone in the house, and we had just finished lunch, and all of a sudden, she said to me, "Thank you Mommy." I asked her, "Thank you for what Baby?" And she so sweetly, genuinely, said, "Thank you for going to Hajj Mommy."
Monday, January 15, 2007
Continuous Reminders Amongst Chaos
I just returned a week ago from Hajj. I went for three weeks with the Nawawi Foundation. Many of my friends and acquaintances went so it was a memorable journey for many reasons.
Subhanallah it was a beautiful trip, and for many reasons I can't even articulate. I think I should share my thoughts on the trip, mostly for myself - as writing my thoughts down helps me reflect on my experiences better.
Dr. Umar told us before we left that this is a journey we will never forget. He was right in so many different ways. I will never forget this journey because going and leaving my two and a half year old daughter behind was one of the hardest things I have had to do. I will never forget this journey because of all the beautiful people I met, became friends with, shared my experiences with, ate my meals with, shared a tent with, and most importantly, have become bound forever spiritually by making this journey with. I will never forget this journey because I had the esteemed honor of traveling with my close friend and teacher, Dr. Umar. Finally, I will never forget this trip because of all the small reminders Allah sent me throughout the day, every day that I was there. Here is one of them.
Escalators....
There are all types of people on Hajj. What is most amazing about it all is that even though all of us have different circumstances and we all prepare for the journey in different ways - for some it is literally their life's journey, for others it just means taking two weeks off of work - at the end of the day we all are there for the same purpose. Subhanallah though, just being aware of your surroundings and seeing all the different people is a constant reminder to you about all the blessings you have in your life - and all the good things you can learn from others. Something as ordinary as riding on an escalator is something that I have never even thought twice until I saw that it is actually an experience some fear. I saw two women holding each other with death grips while riding on an escalator, and then later that same day, I saw another who couldn't even get on. This was a common occurence in the three weeks I was there.
Of course I always knew that there are people in this world who have never seen an escalator, yet for some reason it never really hit me until that moment. For me, its not the experience of having ridden on an escalator that is important - its what the escalator represents. It represents so much - on a broader level, just technology, electricity, etc. But it also represents more intrinsic things, like the comforts and ease we have in our lives and that I am "rich" enough to actually have seen and ridden on an escalator before. It also opened my eyes to what a sheltered life I have lived this whole time - that I hardly think of the other, of my brothers and sisters around the world who don't have all the same comforts of life as I do.
It was small happenings like this that reminded me constantly of the blessings that I have in my life, the blessings I have living in America. That I was born an American Muslim, and have lived a privileged life, and not from a small village in the third world where I have to work like crazy for every crumb of bread.
I tried really hard every moment I was there to understand it all around me. To appreciate the greatness of being there, of doing Hajj, of being amongst the three million plus guests of Allah. And I usually came out disturbed that I couldn't. Perhaps I am not meant to. Perhaps its not supposed to be that easy. On some level it really is true: true appreciation of the journey I have just made will not surface until the Day of Judgment.
I pray that the lessons I learned - we all learned - on this journey and everything I saw will remain as vivid to me as it was when I was there, as it is right now sitting a week after returning. I also pray that I am able to return as I grow older, so that I can continue to increase my appreciation and understanding of this great journey.
Subhanallah it was a beautiful trip, and for many reasons I can't even articulate. I think I should share my thoughts on the trip, mostly for myself - as writing my thoughts down helps me reflect on my experiences better.
Dr. Umar told us before we left that this is a journey we will never forget. He was right in so many different ways. I will never forget this journey because going and leaving my two and a half year old daughter behind was one of the hardest things I have had to do. I will never forget this journey because of all the beautiful people I met, became friends with, shared my experiences with, ate my meals with, shared a tent with, and most importantly, have become bound forever spiritually by making this journey with. I will never forget this journey because I had the esteemed honor of traveling with my close friend and teacher, Dr. Umar. Finally, I will never forget this trip because of all the small reminders Allah sent me throughout the day, every day that I was there. Here is one of them.
Escalators....
There are all types of people on Hajj. What is most amazing about it all is that even though all of us have different circumstances and we all prepare for the journey in different ways - for some it is literally their life's journey, for others it just means taking two weeks off of work - at the end of the day we all are there for the same purpose. Subhanallah though, just being aware of your surroundings and seeing all the different people is a constant reminder to you about all the blessings you have in your life - and all the good things you can learn from others. Something as ordinary as riding on an escalator is something that I have never even thought twice until I saw that it is actually an experience some fear. I saw two women holding each other with death grips while riding on an escalator, and then later that same day, I saw another who couldn't even get on. This was a common occurence in the three weeks I was there.
Of course I always knew that there are people in this world who have never seen an escalator, yet for some reason it never really hit me until that moment. For me, its not the experience of having ridden on an escalator that is important - its what the escalator represents. It represents so much - on a broader level, just technology, electricity, etc. But it also represents more intrinsic things, like the comforts and ease we have in our lives and that I am "rich" enough to actually have seen and ridden on an escalator before. It also opened my eyes to what a sheltered life I have lived this whole time - that I hardly think of the other, of my brothers and sisters around the world who don't have all the same comforts of life as I do.
It was small happenings like this that reminded me constantly of the blessings that I have in my life, the blessings I have living in America. That I was born an American Muslim, and have lived a privileged life, and not from a small village in the third world where I have to work like crazy for every crumb of bread.
I tried really hard every moment I was there to understand it all around me. To appreciate the greatness of being there, of doing Hajj, of being amongst the three million plus guests of Allah. And I usually came out disturbed that I couldn't. Perhaps I am not meant to. Perhaps its not supposed to be that easy. On some level it really is true: true appreciation of the journey I have just made will not surface until the Day of Judgment.
I pray that the lessons I learned - we all learned - on this journey and everything I saw will remain as vivid to me as it was when I was there, as it is right now sitting a week after returning. I also pray that I am able to return as I grow older, so that I can continue to increase my appreciation and understanding of this great journey.
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