For the past two months, my great aunt got severely sick. She got sick to a point where she was to be in bed care till the day she passed. My aunt lived at my grandparents house, so i really considered her my grandma. I would sit with her daily, reading, studying, sleeping, watching movies, anything, but beside her. We learnt to cope with her at my grandparents house. She brought such a peaceful vibe, even though she was dying in front of our eyes.
I spent studying my finals beside her mostly. I felt as though the angels of heaven surrounded her in the room, and i would get so much done, in an unbelievable fast way.
I learnt to love someone i never knew till a few years ago. Someone who only lived with my grandparents for two months.
Somedays she would be beautiful, and full of spirit, she would hold a glass of tea alone and drink it. And other days… she would have many tubes stuck into her, and so lifeless…
I never understood the verses in the quran about how Allah grants ‘life’ after ‘death’ in the way i understood them during this time. Amto would be so tired, and we would sit around prepared that any moment it would all be over, then suddenly she would be full of life, and able to move her arms or try to talk to us.
I remember how happy we would get. We would take videos, and clap.
But it got to a point where it was her time to go. She got so sick we had to take her to the ICU. I still won’t forget the way she laid lifeless in the bed. It was my first time to spend a day at the ICU. The room seemed so loud with all those beeping heart rates and what not… she was dying..
I went home that day, and everytime the phone rang we didn’t want to hear the news…
Jan 27 2014 was the last time i saw my aunt. The last time i got to see the most beautiful thing that ever happened to us. The women who was so quiet and so polite that changed all our lives. She came to Jordan to be cured, to the country where all her siblings and nieces and nephews lived. If she were to die in Palestine, she wouldn’t have had anyone..
No soul can ever die except with the permission of Allah, and at an appointed time. [3:145]
They say her janazah was as big as a wedding. People who haven’t been in touch for 30 years saw each other at her funeral. SubhanAllah the life she granted people after her death, the ties of kinship that were brought back was all because of her pure heart and good will.
I ask Allah to grant her jannatul firdous, to allow her to be at ease after all the pain she went through during her comma. I ask Allah to grant us people to take care of us if we become old and ill and lifeless. I ask Allah alwadood to allow the ones we love to be the closest to us on our death beds.
And it is also the fact that the kingdom of the heavens and the earth belongs to Him: he ordains life and death: and you have neither any helper nor protector to rescue yourself from Him. [9:116]
My beloved daughter and dignified teacher Asma al-Beltaji; I do not say goodbye to you; I say tomorrow we shall meet again.
You have lived with your head held high, rebellious against tyranny and shackles and loving freedom. You have lived as a silent seeker of new horizons to rebuild this nation to assume its place among civilizations.
You never occupied yourself with what preoccupies those of your age. Even though traditional studies failed to fulfil your aspirations and interest; you have always been the first in your class.
I have not had enough of your precious company in this short life, especially that my time did not allow me to enjoy your companionship. The last time we sat together at Rabaa Al Adawiya square you asked me “even when you are with us you are busy” and I told you “it seems that this life will not be enough to enjoy each other’s company so I pray to God that we enjoy our companionship in paradise.”
Two nights before you were murdered I saw you in my dream in a white wedding dress and you were an icon of beauty. When you lay next to me I asked you “Is it your wedding night?” You answered, “It is in the noon not the evening”. When they told me you were murdered on Wednesday afternoon I understood what you meant and I knew God had accepted your soul as a martyr. You strengthened my belief that we are on the truth and our enemy is on falsehood.
It caused me severe pain not to be at your last farewell and see you for the last time; not to kiss your forehead; and not be honoured to lead your funeral prayer. I swear to God, my darling I was not afraid for my life or from an unjust prison, but I wanted to carry the message you scarified your soul for; to complete the revolution, to win and achieve its objectives.
Your soul has been elevated with your head held high resisting the tyrants. The treacherous bullets have hit you in the chest. What spectacularly determined and pure soul. I am confident that you were honest to God and He has chosen you among us to honour you with sacrifice.
Finally, my beloved daughter and dignified teacher:
I do not say goodbye, but I say farewell. We shall meet soon with our beloved Prophet and his companions in Heaven where our wish to enjoy each other’s company and our loved ones’ company will come true.
You can try to brain wash me with your political view, and i don’t really like getting into political discussions, but how the heck do people just casually say ‘Well, they deserve it.’
Whether it be the catastrophes happening in Syria, and the massacres in Egypt, how does anyone deserve it.
Ya jama3a, where has humanity gone?!!
Its not about the muslim brotherhood, its about the literal human brotherhood that we have forgot and abandoned… seeing all these people killed by chemical weapons, or bearded men shot in their face for their appearance, they are still humans.
Families are being destroyed, fathers shot, brothers, sons, wives, sisters…
After i saw the peaceful rally in Alqasa, where everyone came out just praying for the peace of the ummah, just to see the end of the mass deaths it really put a smile on my face.. Falesteen has been aching for 60+ years… and yet its humanity that brought them out to ask Allah for His aid.. and that is what we should be doing.
Ya rabbi, ya jabbar, ease the aching hearts of those whom are loosing their loved ones, and spread your mercy on those who’ve lost their lives.. and grant justice in the lands.
متى نصر الله… الا إن نصر الله قريب
As a shariah student we have to take 3 Quran courses which through it we memorize around 6 juz’s once you graduate.
Quran. My biggest challenge honestly. Even though i grew up for a couple years in Saudi, i regret to this day that i would run away with my friends and find any excuse from attending our weekend quran lessons. Ya Allah 😦
Anyways, even though my parents speak arabic, and i have the biggest insecurity of reading quran out loud, and now i must get over that fear because twice a week, i sit for an hour and a half in a class where we must recite quran.
The first lesson was basically a disaster for me, i almost burst in tears (yes that is how much i dislike reading out loud) especially when the class is filled with Malay’s and Asians mashaAllah whom recite beautifully! i just wanted to disappear! but i got over it.. and i’m trying inshaAllah.
So this semester i’m going to get over my insecurity of reading out loud and get used to not perfectly reading quran because not all of us do and well thats why you get double the ajr.. and thats what keeps me going.
On the bright side! i memorized 5 pages this week alhamdulilah, and i’m really getting in the mood 🙂 🙂
May Allah make the Quran our light and guide in this life and the hereafter!
And Allah wants to lighten for you [your difficulties]; and mankind was created weak. – Qur’an, Surah An Nisa’ (4:28)
As Isha athan went off, i was studying out of my big psych textbook.. i put it all down, took off my glasses and put my face between my palms.. and stopped. For a min out of hours of studying i just needed a break.
I breathed. i stopped. I looked out the window, and for the first time in a while, i saw my life pass in front of me. I just thought for a minute to myself… what is success?
We sometimes get so caught up with life, in my case, so caught up in studying, that i just forget what i’m really here for. I mean success has a different definition for everyone, and i feel like it can change as we get older, experience more, and learn more about ourselves…
The word ‘success’ in arab is falaah (فلاح ) – falaah comes from the root falh, meaning ‘farmer’… a farmer is the greatest example for success because a farmer is a perfect example of someone whom works, from 6am in the morning till sunset – making sure all his crops are well harvested, and all that fun stuff 🙂 a farmer puts all his heart into what he works with, he works, and breaks a sweat, but in return, he ‘literally’ sees the fruit of his work.
And that is what we need to aim to do. We are all farmers in this life, working, harvesting the seeds that on the Day of Judgment will be ripe fruits to witness for us… We need to work hard, we need to be tested, because just like farmers, the weather isn’t always going to help, there might be a drought, or crows might enter their fields, but that doesn’t cause them to sit in a corner and cry. They work, they put it all in, and leave the rest to Allah.
So, work hard, think for the future, do something with your life… and break a sweat for once.
“I have learned that success is to be measured not so much by the position that one has reached in life as by the obstacles which he has overcome while trying to succeed.”
Rant for the day- back to midterm studying… 😦
Since the day I became aware of this life, and became aware of my surroundings, my vivid memories were always seeing my parents flipping through the channels to watch the news in Palestine. This sacred place I am from, so far away, yet so close to the hearts.
Palestine, Palestine, Palestine. Everywhere. Since I was a kid, I would always be proud during multicultural events at school, dress up as a ‘Palestinian’. All my school projects would be about my homeland, the most beautiful place on earth, the dearest thing to my heart. Yet… I never stepped on its soil, breathed its air, saw its sky. But I knew I loved it.
But one thing I never got is why were they always praying for Palestine, what it really meant for it being under attack.. I never ever understood why I would cry so much, why it tore up my grandparent’s hearts whenever they’d see the news. I never really got it, I knew I had to be torn up, I knew I had to make duaa’, but it just never made sense.
After 19 years…. The puzzle pieces of my life were finally put together. I finally got it. I finally stepped into Palestine. I finally prayed in masjid al-Aqsa. I finally was home. And I finally cried, cried and cried, and every tear that came down came literally from the heart.
My first hours in the Israeli airport were one the most heartbreaking experiences for me. I never felt so humiliated, so out of place, even though for the first time I was in my country. It was disgusting. They treated us like animals, just for the reason that I wanted to come home? Why? Why did I have to see an old lady cry and barely able to walk being yelled at, and have her luggage thrown at her, why? Just simply because she’s coming back home to visit her land.. it didn’t make sense. But at the same time I never felt so attached to Palestine.
When I first stepped on the soil of Hebron, breathed its fresh air, I didn’t know how to thank Allah. It was the most surreal seconds of my life.
And then, I prayed in alaqsa. Wallahi wallahi, I don’t ever recall feeling the way I did the moment I saw the Dome of the Rock. My heart skipped a beat- I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t know if I were to smile, to cry, to just run up to it and touch its pillars, to hug the people that gracefully walked on its land.
I reached just in time for Dhur prayer. And I stood there, between lines and lines of people, normal people, whom were heros to me, praying, just the way I saw them pray on TV, but it didn’t really hit me yet… till the moment I prostrated, and my forehead felt the cold ground of alqsa, the tears filled the floor, I forgot everything, and began kissing the most beautiful land on the face of this planet.
SubhanAllah, this was what the ‘perfect moment’ meant. And just there and then, I felt like if I were to die, I would die at ease. Because now I lived life, now I know what my purpose was, I went back home, I didn’t want to ever leave. Palestine, its like heaven on earth.
It was the most bittersweet trip… AlAqsa was crying, AlAqsa is in pain, and I felt it sharply stab me through the heart. Alaqsa, Gaza, Palestine, is crying… crying out. Its heartbroken, its broken, its sad and it needs us.
What I would do to just go back, just to pray another prayer in Palestine. Just to kiss its soil and admire its beautiful sky.
Now as I watch what is going on in Gaza, my heart literally is torn apart, my eyes cannot stand it, because I was on that land, and I saw its pure beautiful people. I saw the simple life; people lived every day to its fullest, because they never knew what to expect the day to come. I couldn’t get over the fact walking in my own streets of the city I came from and being searched… knowing that at certain times you can’t leave your home because you never know when something may go on.
This is why I cry today for Gaza, because I finally understand what Palestine is under siege means. I finally can understand the torn look in my grandfather’s eyes when he talks about home. I finally get why I sometimes see my grandmother dozing off into another world just thinking of home. This is what makes sense now, when I see how perfectly my grandmother paints the paintings of Palestine, and why they mean so much.
Ya rabb, ya jabbar, ya wadud, bring justice to Palestine, ya Allah mend the hearts of those who have lost their loved ones, ya Allah allow us all to spend the next Eid praying on this blessed land, in Your blessed mosque.
i took this picture alhamdulilah 🙂