The 10th of Muharram - marking the shahadat of Imam e aali Maqam - Imam Hussain (as)

The Upside of Humiliation

 

Knowledge will not come to you from reading books on spirituality.

It will come to you only when the dhiyaan, the focus of a Friend of Allah, comes upon you.

Ghaus Pak (ra)

 

A few months ago love walked in to my life. It tends to do that every few years. It’s always a cameo appearance. It’s also never love. It’s an illusion of it. The claim, as it turns out, no one except the tongues of the Extraordinary can bear. I just think it is because of something Ibn e Sina (ra), the man considered the Father of Medicine, said which gets me excited. I already knew this part:

 

The condition for the heart to accept the Nur of Allah from without, to recognize it within, is softness of the heart (Riqqat ul Qalb). So what was going to bring about the softness?

 

According to the scientist it was the following:

 

“The softness of the heart comes from two things. The first is purification of thought. The second, a pure love, the condition for which is that it is mental and spiritual, not physical and lustful, so that the reason for loving the beloved is their akhlaq (character and manners) that forms their behavior.”

 

Sadly, this was not going to be the first time I would focus on the first part of the second condition, whilst thinking, erroneously, that my heart was about to be rendered soft; “Mental and spiritual!” I had surrendered to that state for my physical being. Or so I think. Every time I have been put to the test, I have failed in the past but we, on spiritual paths, are hopeful always of bettering ourselves.

 

I always totally missed the last half of his instruction, therefore tweaking it and being humiliated beyond belief; “…so that the reason for loving the beloved is their akhlaq that forms their behaviour.” To be fair to myself, the akhlaq was always different in the early days. That was because when one’s heart is soaking itself in love, even it is a superficial attachment, for as long as it lasts, only a sensitive consideration appears.

 

In all honesty, I never took those overtures that then emerged from total strangers seriously. I knew it had nothing to do with me per se simply because I was doing absolutely nothing to deserve them. I was friendly and warm, cordial, the same as I was to many others. I noticed that their attention was singular upon me but I didn’t place much importance on it. I didn’t find it striking. I was not taken by it. It literally had nothing to do with me. I just happened to be the one inciting it.

 

Six months later I went on a trip that was life changing for me. But that’s another story. When I returned the dynamic had shifted. I had no idea why and before I could even wonder about that, it would be weeks. In those weeks when I expected things to be the same, because over time, I too had built an attachment, I was humiliated almost every single day in one way or another.

 

My calls were not returned, much less taken, by someone who had called me several times a day and I had always answered. My asking for a meeting over lunch or breakfast was rebuffed when they were once sought and welcomed. The excuse I was given was work. It took me a month to figure out that I was still on a page that the other had already turned. Still, why such people are unable to continue the interaction on a somewhat normal trajectory, I have never been able to figure out. It’s always sudden death.

 

The humiliation caused me to spend nights in distress, trying to think of why what was happening was happening. I felt hurt. I wanted to be angry but it was not a feeling that was emerging. In those days, my eyes were brought upon a verse that then changed my life forever.

 

‏وَٱصْبِرْ عَلَىٰ مَا يَقُولُونَ وَٱهْجُرْهُمْ هَجْرًۭا جَمِيلًۭا ‎‎

 

And be patient over what they say, and avoid them with an avoidance gracious.

Surah Al Muzzammil, Verse 10

 

Specifically the words hajran jameela, an avoidance beautiful! What, I wondered, could that possibly be? Qari Sahib was leaving for Hajj in two days. I requested a last class. Who knew it would be my saving grace those six weeks he would be gone without access. My Ghaus (ra) revealed the meaning unforgettably!

 

Tafseer e Jilani

 

Wa: And after that you have taken Him as The Vakil, The Disposer of your affairs and you have made Him , Haseeb, Sufficient for you and your Kafeel, Guardian…

 

Isbir ma yaquloona: be patient upon what they say i.e. the Al Mushrikoona, those who associate others with Allah, Al Musrifoona, the transgressors of boundaries, from their superstitions/misconceptions and speculations/assumptions that are unfit for your matter.

 

When splits upon you, (becoming extremely difficult), patience and tolerance (for what they say and do)…

 

Wahjurjum: leave them and turn your attention away from them…

 

Hajran jameela: with beautiful avoidance, smiling, cheerfully,

1.without inclining towards their false delirium (confusion and reduced awareness)

2.and without consideration for them or looking after them

3.and without speaking to them

4.and with tawakkul, reliance upon Allah and entrust the matter of avenging them to Him.

 

For indeed, He is Enough for you regarding their supply of misdeeds and ridicule.

 

In those weeks that my teacher was gone our weekly classes continued. My cousins, who hosted the class, asked me to give a few lectures. I told them if they could get some kids together, I would be happy to do it. I had given up sharing knowledge acquired in public. But exceptions have to be made. Young people still have a chance at change. People my age are, almost always, only listeners. Avid but only listeners.

 

I chose pain and suffering as my topic. The causes of it as explained in the Quran. There were two verses in particular I was focused upon. They created a map where I was learning to place myself every time I felt bad. But I opened the lecture with something entirely new for me. The syntax of prayer!

 

I had used the same verses to make a different point once before. The rule, also learned from the Quran, about the necessary abstinence from blame and accusation in a relationship. So affection could remain and not be replaced by fear or need, which was the inevitable consequence. I myself adhered to that rule religiously. I never want love to exit a relationship because of me, no matter what the circumstances.

 

After a long time, I had recently broken that rule. From the breach though, I discovered something new. I used to think if I exercised blame and accusation, it caused fear and need for the other person. Turns out it’s the opposite. The one blaming, complaining is the one who appears fearful or needy. It’s a backfiring of the worst order!

 

But this time my focus on the verses was different. I chose three:

 

When Hazrat Adam (as) and Amma Hawwa (ratu) were made to leave Heaven for a transgression they were enticed to commit:

 

قَالَا رَبَّنَا ظَلَمْنَا أَنفُسَنَا وَإِن لَّمْ تَغْفِرْ لَنَا

وَتَرْحَمْنَا لَنَكُونَنَّ مِنَ الْخَاسِرِينَ

 

The two replied, "O our Sustainer! We have sinned against ourselves and unless You grant us forgiveness and bestow Your mercy upon us, we shall most certainly be lost!"

Surah Al-Aa’raaf, Verse 23

 

When Hazrat Younis (as) was trapped in the belly of the whale after he left his nation.

 

وَذَا النُّونِ إِذ ذَّهَبَ مُغَاضِبًا فَظَنَّ أَن لَّن نَّقْدِرَ عَلَيْهِ فَنَادَىٰ فِي الظُّلُمَاتِ

أَن لَّا إِلَٰهَ إِلَّا أَنتَ سُبْحَانَكَ إِنِّي كُنتُ مِنَ الظَّالِمِينَ

 

And the Man of the Fish, when he went off in anger and thought that We would not decree (anything) upon him. And he called out within the darkness, ‘There is no deity except You; Exalted are You. Indeed, I have been of the wrongdoers”.

Surah Al-Anbiya, Verse 87

 

Fa danna: So he thought, as soon as he left his nation…

 

Al-lan naqdira: that We, Allah Subhanahu, will not put stress and distress…

 

Alaihi: upon him and it is not possible for Us to slow him down and make him suffer nor make him hide in another place so he escaped and arrived at the ocean and boarded a ship and suddenly the wind stopped and the sailors said, “In this ship is a servant who has come without permission from his master.”

 

They balloted and in the ballot came out his name (of Prophet Yunus (as)) and they tossed him in the ocean and just then a whale swallowed him.

 

Fa nada: Then he invoked his Lord and prayed silently and humbly, scared, covered…

 

Fi dulumaat: in darkness which concealed him in layers because he was in the belly of the whale and the night was dark.

 

An: Indeed, He…

 

La ilaha: There is no God worthy of worship but Allah and deserving of worship which is the Right of His Essence and His Attribute…

 

Illa anta: except You, O Who in front of Whom necks bend and bow before the Veils of Your Majesty, the necks of the ones who are of intellect and reason…

 

Subhanaka: Glory is to You, O my Lord, I think of You as free of all flaws which are not mentionable with Your Essence and (all flaws) which are not worthy of mention with Your Grace.

 

Inni: Indeed, I am, due to my departure from my people without Your Permission and Revelation, while you had sent me to them and raised me among them in appearance as a Prophet, as a preacher and as a guide…

 

Kuntu min ad-daalimeen: I am of the transgressors of boundaries, the ones who departed from Your Orders and Your Commands so that’s why You made the matter one of distress for me and You imprisoned me and there is no one who can rescue me from this suffering except Your Forgiveness and Your Mercy.

 

And after he repented before Us and he focused towards Us with sincerity, with humility and he became pure towards Us, upset, distressed…

 

Then Hazrat Ayub (as) when he was sick for 18 years, his body covered in painful boils.

 

وَأَيُّوبَ إِذْ نَادَىٰ رَبَّهُ أَنِّي مَسَّنِيَ الضُّرُّ وَأَنتَ أَرْحَمُ الرَّاحِمِينَ

 

And the Prophet Job (as), when he called to his Lord, "Indeed, adversity has touched me, and you are the Most Merciful of the merciful”.

Surah Al-Anbiya, Verse 83

 

Me: “If you look at all the prayers of the Prophets in the Quran, in all their states, but especially in suffering, they first praise Allah Subhanahu. Always! Then they never bring into their words anyone else who might be the cause of that suffering. ‘He did this, look what she did, they did, the world did.’ Never. The focus remains singular upon their Lord God. Hence the prayer has an intimacy between just two, The Worshipper and The Worshipped.

 

The second thing the Prophets always do is bring the cause of the pain upon their own selves. As in ‘I did this to myself because I crossed a boundary You had set.’ The word in Arabic is almost always zulm. It does not mean, like in the Urdu, cruelty. It means injustice. Hence they say, ‘I was unfair to my own nafs, to my own self.’”

 

And this is where a new colour in the rainbow emerged. It was not just about the prayer requiring praise. I was about to be made to learn that the praise necessary was the one invoking Allah’s Asma al Husna, His Beautiful Names. 99 of which are given but the Extraordinary have expressed hundreds more. In the course of writing this piece, I created one or two myself.

 

The reason I learnt the significance of The Names was another verse. Without doubt it was a reward for doing the lecture. For as Nabi Kareem (peace be upon him and his family) says the best amongst us is the one who benefits others.

 

I had wanted to highlight for the young adults the importance of reading. The means by which I was going to make my point was that the first word ever revealed by Allah Subhanahu to His Beloved (peace be upon him) in the Cave of Hira was “Iqra” – Read!

 

Since no one does that these days, I wanted to remind the kids that it was clearly deemed a necessity for any nafs that sought qurb, closeness or even any kind of movement towards The Divine. In wanting to accentuate that point, I ended up re-reading the full verse which I had happened to translate the exegesis of out of curiosity for what the first revelation contained. I have to confess, then I was constantly in a mode where I glossed over the Names and Attributes entirely in every verse I translated. My focus was always on some other part of the verse.

 

What happened in that read is best encapsulated by Proust: The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.

 

ٱقْرَأْ بِٱسْمِ رَبِّكَ ٱلَّذِى خَلَقَ

 

Read, ˹O Prophet,˺ in the Name of your Lord Who created—

Surah Al Alaq, Verse 1-5

 

Tafseer e Jilani

 

Iqra: Read, O Messenger who completes Messenger-hood (peace be upon you) and remember after have been sent to you Allah’s Favours, and you have been enwrapped in His Honour…

 

Bi ismi Rabbika: i.e. be continuous in your remembrance of your Lord’s Names who raises you…

 

Alladi khalaqa: The One who created everything and made it appear from the hidden-ness of being nothing, according to His Names and Attributes and raised everything in different variations of His Lutf, Affection and Karam, Generosity and bestowed upon everything majestic bounties.

 

And after Allah gave this Order to His Habeeb (peace be upon him) to read and to remember Allah’s Names and to recite them, Allah then gave another Command; to deeply consider and reflect upon their meanings and to unveil their hidden secrets so He said;

 

Iqra: Read the reading of consideration that takes you in to depth and unveil that which (the Names and Attributes) consist, which are without match and the amazing things which have been placed in them.

 

More so than the in advertent intention of trying to be of benefit, my being brought to The Beautiful Names was a gift of Bibi Zainab (as) from my last trip to Damascus. Re=reading the tafseer made me recall a prayer at the Rauza Mubarik of Bibi Ruqaya (as) where I had heard a child utter the Names of Allah in between the posture changes in the namaz.

 

Then I had only thought, this child will become attached to Allah Subhanahu through His Names at 10 when I only begin to learn that the Names matter at 51. Then I had not even known how much those Names mattered! I had only remembered a single line from the tafseer by Ghaus Pak (ra) from another verse:

 

“And the one who desires that Allah bestow upon him honour and control and absolute kingdoms and abundance that remains forever, then he should, in his initial stages toward Allah, praise Him by way of His Perfect Names and Exalted Attributes till his remembrance reaches the stages of their reflection in him.”

 

I had chosen the verse which contained this text the first time because I liked to be reminded that all honour only belongs to Allah. And in another verse, to Allah and His Rasool (peace be upon him and his family). It was necessary to remember that for those who crave honour after which there is never any humiliation. Ever!

 

مَن كَانَ يُرِيدُ ٱلْعِزَّةَ فَلِلَّهِ ٱلْعِزَّةُ جَمِيعًا ۚ إِلَيْهِ يَصْعَدُ ٱلْكَلِمُ ٱلطَّيِّبُ وَٱلْعَمَلُ ٱلصَّـٰلِحُ يَرْفَعُهُۥ

 

Whoever desires for himself honor, (should know) then for Allah (alone) is all the Honor.

To Him ascends the good words, and righteous deeds raises it.

Surah Fatir, Verse 10

 

Tafseer e Jilani:

 

Man kana yureed ul izzata: The one who wants honour, endless, after which never comes humiliation ever, then he should turn towards Allah and makes his focus His One-ness.

 

Fa lillahe izzatu: For only Allah is the True Owner of Honour, which includes control, eternal majesty and all kingdoms…

 

Jami-an: overt (zahiri) and inner (batini). And the one who desires that Allah bestow upon him honour and control and absolute kingdoms and abundance that remains forever, then he should, in his initial stages toward Allah, praise Him by way of His Perfect Names and Exalted Attributes till his remembrance reaches the stages of their reflection in him.

 

This (the reflection) is the last effort and then he becomes a reflector of Allah’s Being, wanting to unveil the Veils of His Omnipotence, till he becomes present before Him, able to unveil Him and witness the Signs of His Names and Attributes on the surface of the Universe without the distortion created by others. 

 

And overall (in summary), the one who seeks honour should be occupied in the Remembrance by Allah in the early stages because...

 

Ilayhi yasadu alkalm at tayyabu: towards Him ascend good words which are the Prefect Names of Allah and His Exalted Attributes, increasing in frequency from the tongues of The Sincere and The Ones who Reflect in Allah’s Blessings and His Bounty…

 

Wal al amal as saleh: and (they should be occupied) in good deeds joined with ikhlas, sincerity and tabbatul, devotion to Him (also ascending towards Him)…

 

Yarfa’uhu: (which will be why) He then raises that deed founded upon sincerity and those good words allowing them to reach towards the stages of Closeness with Allah. So for the one whose sincerity in his deed is perfect, then the ranks of his words, which are raised towards Allah Subhanahu, are the highest and the most supreme to Him.

 

Because of the verse I began noticing for the first time how in my namaz, which I had been reading now regularly for years, the Blessed Names of Allah were sprinkled throughout it. From the beginning till the end. If they weren’t uttered as nouns, they appeared as verbs. The knowledge made my utterances become slower and slower so that I paused on every Name.

 

Ar Rahman, Ar Rahim, Maalik e Youmiddeen, Al Ahad, As Samad, Al Ahad, Al aliyy, Al Hameed, Al Majeed…

 

I decided to emulate the child in Damascus. As I changed position from standing to touching my knees in ruku’ I started saying a Name. As soon as I did that I realized its profound effect. I was calling someone. I was calling out to my Lord and suddenly, because I was uttering one of His Exalted Names, He was turning His Attention towards me.

 

The feeling was unreal!

 

For the first time in my life, a distracted prayer, which I thought was my destiny, since that is what it had been forever, looked like it might shift. Funnily enough someone had gifted me the Names of Allah on a wall hanging years ago. I had hung it on my dressing room where I only glanced at it and every once in a while kissed Al Wadoodu – The Loving One. That was the Name my mother had been told to give me to read a tasbeeh of in my teens based on the science of numerology. Later I realized how that utterance created the foundation for how I would love my whole life.

 

It’s not like it made me not require return. My love was not unconditional. What it did hold in it from the qualities of Divine Love though was that it was permanent. Not in the sense that my feeling for someone lasted forever. That part dissipated over time. It was still muwaddat though in the sense that no matter how bad the rupture, every single person who knew I loved them, relied on the fact that my doors for them were always open. To my detriment that door became “revolving” I would joke sometimes but still. It was a nice feeling for me to know that capacity came through one of the softest Names of The Divine that left my lips only in obedience to an order of a parent.

 

Now I took that wall hanging and placed it before me for my longer prayers and started memorizing them.

 

Each time my tongue uttered a Name, my heart wanted to reflect upon its meaning. I wanted to be connected to it. Sometimes I just expressed gratitude: “Ya Affuw, The Oft Forgiving, thank you for forgiving me again and again. Others I repeated lines I had learnt from Ghaus Pak (ra) in my readings: “Ya Mutawakkal, The One Entrusted, I entrust my matters, all of them, to you, Ya Muslih, O Reformer, reform me…” and so it went on and on.

 

It was the days leading to Muharram. A single thought kept going in and out of my head. To bring into the kids’ attention how we end up wasting so much time hung up in nostalgia, thinking about people who, given the chance, we might not want to ever have met. I came up with an exercise.

 

“Imagine,” I wanted to say, “if Allah Subhanahu said to you, ‘I will bring you back into a womb. You tell me, of the people you have interacted with to-date, which person you want to appear in this new life. The interaction, this relationship, with the person you choose, if you choose someone, will be exactly the same as it was in this life you had.”

 

I thought about the question for myself. Was there anyone at all I wanted to be in my life and have the exact same experience with. Turned out my answer was No! I wanted everything and everyone to be new. Reset! Maybe I would be poorer, maybe I would be unwell, maybe I would be unhappier but I thought I would choose newness to come from my Rabb, Allah Al Muqtadir, who always raised me with kindness.

 

There was one exception that kept coming to my mind. My mother!

 

Knowing that at five she would send me to a boarding school that would render me emotionally numb for the next 15 years. Knowing that while I was there she would sometimes not call on my birthday and forget to ensure that there was money for me to spend on the one or two days a year that the students went to eat out and shop in the town. Knowing that when I would return I would be 10 and she would be 36 and she would have little to no time for me because she was busy with her friends. Knowing that she would die when I would turn 26 and it would devastate me forever.

 

It was not because she was considered, in her life and after her premature death at 53, unique. People who are outstanding, distinctive, are a little crazy. They are haphazard. No, I thought to myself, that would not be my reason.

 

Then I wondered it would be because of two attributes that she had been gifted in her nature intrinsically; forgiveness and generosity. Qualities both uncommon and exalted. But in truth, both of those worked against me as a child. She forgave too easily those who were unkind to me. When in my mid-teens I finally drummed up the courage to ask her why, her answers left me speechless each time.

 

One of those people who were relentless in their meanness was a step-mother. We had to spend three long summer months with her in another city. Only the presence of cousins living there mitigated that. My father was silent about it, pretending he didn’t know. Every time the woman came to Lahore my mother warmly invited her over for tea.

 

“I don’t understand,” I finally asked, “Why would you ask her to come to our house when we feel miserable in hers for days on end? It’s humiliating.”

 

“Because,” she said just once and it was enough, “she was widowed at an early age with a small child. Perhaps that loss made her how she is. And perhaps one day because of my kindness to her, she will be kinder to you.”

 

Her sensitivity for the unknown in another person’s life floored me. I never broached the subject again.

 

When it came to generosity, she always gave of that which she needed herself. And therefore of what we needed as a single parent family. The act caused me anxiety because I had taken on responsibilities in the house that were not mine to bear and that I was too young to assume. Then I felt like she was half crazy to take from my plate, not knowing if it would be enough for me and give from it to another. Later, I learnt it was the daily act of the Ahl e Beit, the members of the Prophet of God (peace be upon him and his family) and verses of the Quran descended because of them.

 

But those attributes were not the reason I would choose her.

 

“So why then,” my nafs asked?

 

“Because once,” I told it after considering it carefully, “once she choose to sacrifice her heart’s last desire. Literally the last! And it for us, her children’s sake.”

 

I wrote a story about the event in 2005. It was early days of realization that I could write. The beginning was a series of personal history pieces. I had titled it The Third Marriage.

 

Begin

 

It was 1986. Life in Lahore had always been unusual for me. My parents were separated by then which was a low incidence situation for upper-middle class families back then. I had returned from boarding school a few years ago and lived in our house with my brother and mother and the staff. My elder sister had chosen to remain in Murree, unfazed and returned only after finishing all 11 years before starting college. My five had rendered me emotionally numb but able to be independent emotionally with the adeptness of an adult.

 

Samina, that was her name. Ami is what us children called her, the most common Pakistani term for mother. She was a beautiful woman, tall, slim with a life that was dramatic and difficult through all its stages. In 1986, she was seriously contemplating marriage for the third time. The history of that institution for her had also been dramatic and difficult. This time the options were even more unique – two Caucasian males were the suitors, both successful in their chosen careers, both previously married with off-spring in other countries. The consideration to marry was unique in and of itself. It was a time in Lahore when men didn’t marry twice. And if they did, they hid it. A third time was practically unheard of at all, much less for a woman.

 

Ray was 50 plus, a soft-spoken, rotund American originally from Georgia who had spent the last 30 years living in South Asia with the State Department. Whenever I did see him or speak to him, which wasn’t often, he was always sweet and kind. He was an avid lover of opera and sometimes when I went to pick up my mother or drop her off, I heard his music playing well into the garden. I had never heard it before except in movies and didn’t like it much then, not like I have grown to like it now.

 

He had older children some of whom had given him a tough time and it was expected that he would be a more reliable step-father. After all anything was to be expected from my brother and sister, both of whom were generally in some sort of trouble that only got more serious with age. The tell-tale sign was that each of them had to change their educational institution practically every year. My mother’s reaction to that upheaval was impressive. She never dwelt on anything for long. It happened, was her MO, let’s move on to what should happen next.

 

Once a month, my siblings and I went to Ray’s house in Lahore for dinner. I was 15 at the time, which made my brother 11 and my sister 19. We usually got there just before it was time to eat. I was studying like an insane person for my O’Level exams that were coming up and didn’t have time for much of anything. The table was always set formally even if were eating burgers. The only attraction at the time, for the three on our end I think, was the American food we would eat. Something from the commissary, the place the American staff of the Embassy in the city had access to exclusively to purchase American food products.

 

Ray’s three, also two girls and a boy, were all older than myself. Two were in high school and one was in college. They were always nice to us but they appeared to be busy with a lot on their social calendar and these dinners seemed to interrupt that. Hence, during the meals they would be leaving and returning, sometimes taking smoke breaks talking to friends on the phone and sometimes, to say a word to their friends hanging out in their rooms waiting for them to be done.

 

Ray tried to get them to sit through the meal in its entirety but he usually failed. They made jokes with each other sometimes in reference to “The Brady Bunch” but since none of us knew what that was, it was only followed by awkward silences on our parts. As soon as dinner was over, the three of us would march to our car and go home while the three of them would re-enter their expatriate lives in Lahore.

 

Bob was relatively a youthful man in his 40s from Rotterdam, a hotel management executive, who had been in Lahore for a few years. He was divorced, had two small children who were under the age of 10 and whom we never met. I played tennis with him occasionally but other than that just met him to say hi when he was over at our house. The conversation was always polite and brief, we exchanged niceties.

 

He drove some fancy car the hotel had given him and I was always trying to conspire how to wrest the keys from him, making up lame excuses of how I could not get our car past it so I could sneak it out for a drive. I remember one night when I had taken it for a spin finding Bob pacing at our gate on my return. He didn’t say a word as I stepped out of the car meekly and went inside as he drove away, clearly irritated but not saying a word to me about it.

 

I don’t think even my mother admonished me for that act, even though she did say something, throwing in words like “insurance” and “liability” that seemed somewhat forced and not anything she appeared too concerned about. Ami loved Bob, I think she was in love with him. I never knew exactly why but I knew she loved him because in the analysis and selection phase, she always ended up favoring him.

 

The dilemma that was discussed ad nauseum between my mother and her female cousins, who met every day as part of their daily routine, was who to pick. For weeks, I walked in and out of rooms and through conversations where the eternally unfinished list of pros and cons was being outlined verbally. The lists were not long and the attributes were in opposites and therefore simple, uncomplicated.

 

They appeared to be mostly in repeat mode, no new light was being shed in these discussions. It was such a big deal though that not enough could be said about it. All the women were anxious on some level. They knew my mother would eventually pick one of the two and leave the country and the men in the family would briefly lose their minds. But that was not a deterrent by any means. Their love for my mother knew no bounds.

 

Her life had been difficult from the beginning when they were in their teens and the path she had been on, some of it mapped by her parents and some herself, had been nothing like their own which was easier, always settled, always known. They were all socially conservative, deeply religious and what I remember and absorbed by being around them all my life and that seeped into my nature directly was their lack of judgement. People made decisions that sometimes didn’t make sense overtly to the rest of the world, seemingly wrong, even harmful but one couldn’t know all the reasons why and eventually had to respect that rather than lash out at them.

 

They were probably most worried about whether this unusual and risky move was the right one for her this time and probably just prayed a little harder for that when they said their namaz. My mother was the peacock in the group, not because she was the most beautiful, that they all were, but because she was different. She knew that, they knew it. She always had been.

 

She had gained exposure to life by branching out from what had been narrowly and simply declared their “life” through marriage and motherhood, through the patriarchs of the family and society at large. More publicly known were only her sharp deviations from the norms of Pakistani society that made her different, the failed marriages, the mixed parties at her residence where alcohol was served, music was played and on occasion people danced.

 

But they were her anchor after her mother died. In terms of having the closest thing to unconditional love from a parent, they were that source. But unconditional love from peers, as I enjoy from my friends and cousins today, has its downsides because it can advise and inform major decisions but after a point that is reached quickly, the love takes over everything else.

 

In the list, Bob was young, Ray was old. Bob had children under the age of 10, Ray’s three were all older than myself and therefore according to American culture as explained to my mother, were going to be on their own sooner or later. Both had similar financial strengths. Sometimes my aunts would mix the names up. Their mastery of the foreign tongue, in this case English, was not the best.

 

When they did speak in it, which was only out of necessity, I loved it because it always made me giggle and it always made them giggle as they dismissed its importance. I believe both men also knew that they were under scrutiny as both had asked my mother to marry them, both were awaiting an answer. I remember one evening when Ray was over, one of my aunts walked in the room with an endearing smile, greeting him with a “Hello Bob.”

 

Ray almost lost it for a second and grumbled back, “My name is RAY”, emphasizing the end of the sentence even then in his gentle, calming manner. I think in her panic and embarrassment, my aunt started laughing, apologizing profusely. My mother was smiling to herself as she changed the subject saying to Ray, as if it should have been comforting, that he knew her cousins’ English was not good.

 

So Ray or Bob remained the hotly debated subject. My brother was out of the loop entirely struggling with his impending teens. My sister was usually out of the house spending the end of her teens with friends. I was drawn in to the conversations occasionally, my opinion generally more sought than my siblings’ because of a precocious maturity and responsibility I assumed in the running of a house with an absentee male figure.

 

I didn’t have much to add, both men seemed decent and I barely knew them enough to favor either. My life sans my father had made me very used to not needing men at all. I didn’t understand the implications on my life per se as a result of this action because there seemed to be none. All except the embarrassment it would cause the family of course that my mother coming from an old feudal family will have entered into marriage with a non-muslim, white man. Although I’m pretty sure a forced conversion for the ritual had been agreed upon. Perhaps that was always my prime concern and I secretly believed that it would never happen for that reason.

 

It was wishful hoping on my part. I had spent the bulk of my life in silent resentment of not being given a normal life by my parents. But I digress. Finally a decision was made from the heart. Ironically it favored Ray. Ami had called her spiritual guide, Wasif Sahib, a scholar, a poet and a Sufi who addressed a group once a month to discuss spirituality and poetry, life and roles, rights and duties in the context of Islam.

 

He asked her one question: Who do you think will take better care of your children? She knew it would be Ray and told him so truthfully. His advice then was that he would make the better choice but of course it was up to her to finally decide.

 

A few weeks later, I recall all our stuff being packed and shipped off. One night we were in Lahore, the next landing in Dhaka, Ray’s next posting, leaving our home with a large padlock at the gate. We didn’t ask any questions, there were no answers we sought. Ami sold her house without a soul knowing about it. Except for the partners in crime cousins, of course.

 

End Story

 

“So that’s why,” I said to my nafs as it listened intently clearly remembering none of it. It left me wondering, unsure if its overwhelming feeling was sadness or awe.

 

She gave up what her heart desired most of all, knowing that it was the last chance for this particular happiness to come her way. It had been a life soaked in pain and crushed hopes. Extinguishing that last candle herself, seeing her do it, never uttering a word of reproach, never the sound of a complaint, that’s the reason I would want just her in my life again. Even though if I could count the time we spent together, near each other in close proximity. It wouldn’t be years. Perhaps it would be months. Likely, just weeks. Until she would die at 53 and I would remain alive for decades with only a broken heart to mark her existence.

 

It felt uncanny that these thoughts were coming to me a day before Muharram was to begin. But then when I thought about it, it wasn’t so surprising.

 

Muharram is the start of the Islamic year which operates on the lunar calendar. The 31st of December has no meaning. There are no fireworks or parties, toasts around clinking glasses to mark the occasion. The year starts on a deeply mournful note with tears, somber, serious and when one is fortunate enough to understand why, deeply reflective. There is no kind of festivity for at least the first 10 days by those who hold love and regard for the Ahl e Beit, the hosuehold of the Prophet (peace be upon him and his family).

 

The month marks the epitome of sacrifice, in brutal circumstances, in the name of love, in the name of God by the grandson of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him and his family), Hazrat Imam Hussain (as). It is the month in which he became the reason the religion itself survived, having mutated beyond belief just 40 years after the Prophet (peace be upon him). And it was not just because of his martyrdom at Karbala but because he took, thousands of years later, the place of Hazrat Ismael’s (as) would-be sacrifice.

 

وَتَرَكْنَا عَلَيْهِ فِي الْآخِرِينَ

 

And We left (this blessing) for him among generations to come in later times.

Surah As-Saffat, Verse 108

 

The event was not imposed upon him. The most blessed Imam (as) chose this ending when he was a soul and there was a meeting of the Extraordinary in the Heavens with their Lord God. In that meeting lay the explanation for one of the most elusive and debated upon ahadith of the Mercy of the Universe (peace be upon him).

 

Begin excerpt The Softest Heart

 

قَالَ النَّبِيُّ صَلَّى اللَّهُ عَلَيْهِ وَسَلَّمَ حُسَيْنٌ مِنِّي وَأَنَا مِنْ حُسَيْنٍ”

 

The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said (most notably):

“Hussain (as) is from me and I am from Hussain (as).”

 

The tafseer of that line I heard from Mamu who heard it from his Spiritual Master (also from Golra Shareef), was one I had never heard from anyone else. Everyone understood the second part of the sentence. Hazrat Imam Hussain (ratu) was his grandson therefore he was from him but the first part was unclear. How was the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) from Hazrat Imam Hussain (ratu)? This was the explanation I had received.

 

Once when God was surrounded by the souls of his prophets and the family of his Beloved (peace be upon him), in the unfolding of events, when He came to the part of the Prophet Ibrahim (as) sacrificing his son, Hazrat Ismael (as), Hazrat Imam Hussain (ratu) stood up. He said that if Hazrat Ismael (as) was sacrificed as a child, his lineage would end there and the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) would never be born.

 

All the prophets have descended from the line of Hazrat Ibrahim’s other son, the Prophet Ishaaq or Isaac (as). Only Hazrat Muhammad (peace be upon him) comes from the line of Hazrat Ismael (as). It would become the number one reason the Jews would reject him despite his oft mention in their own book, the Torah. Therefore Hazrat Imam Hussain (ratu) offered himself to be sacrificed instead of Hazrat Ismael (as) and so it was deemed. Hence the Prophet (peace be upon him) had said that he had come to exist because of Imam Hussain (ratu); “and I am from Hussain.”

 

End excerpt The Softest Heart

 

He chose the sacrifice and it was not just him as an individual. It would be a massacre, brutal, where children were slain with arrows used to hunt animals piercing their throats. There would be a blockade of food and water for days for those who shared their own supplies with the enemy before the fighting began. Every single male member of the Prophet (peace be upon him and his family), who were after him the appearance of Allah’s Noor, would be killed mercilessly with the exception of one; Hazrat Imam Zain ul Abideen (as) who was seriously ill.

 

The Imam Hussain (as) could not be slain in one to one combat by anyone. Throes of arrows and spears would then be hurled upon his person until he fell from his horse to the ground. In those final moments, his physical body entirely covered in injuries and wounds, having witnessed the martyrdom of all the male members of his entire clan, he would fall into prostration and in that sajda utter his last words addressing his Lord God:

 

I left all creatures for the sake of You

and I orphaned the children so that I see You.

So even if I am cut into pieces for the love of You,

the heart would lean to none other than You.

 

Every time I read the words my eyes filled with tears, my heart with envy and even “my deaf, mute, blind and insane nafs” with a yearning of the possibility of a sacrifice from my self for my Rabb. A sacrifice that would at least manifest itself in this world for another human being and be counted by Allah Al Muhsi, The One who takes account of all things. Imam Hussain’s (as) sacrifice was for his grandfather’s Ummah, his nation, but it was also for an entire Universe to preserve the remembrance of God. For without him the existence of truth would have perished forever.

 

ہر اک ذہن میں ہے کچھ نہ کچھ تصور حق

ہم اس تصور حق کو حسین کہتے ہیں

 

har ek zehn mein hai kuch na kuch tasawar e haq

hum uss tasawar e haq ko hussain (ratu) kehte hain

 

Every mind has in it some perception of truth,

that perception of truth in each is what we call Hussain (as)

 

On the second day of Muharram, the beginning of August, Qari Sahib returned from Hajj. It was lovely to see him. He didn’t tell me much about his travel but I saw the noor on his face.

 

“You don’t look tired at all Sir,” I remarked, genuinely surprised. All I had heard and seen from rich people was how they immediately fell into a state of exhaustion and then illness upon their return.

 

“It’s the Quran,” he replied. “It doesn’t let you feel tired.”

 

“Really?” I asked, wanting confirmation.

 

“Really!” he said smiling his broad smile.

 

I made a mental note to hope for that effect upon me when I performed the Hajj. Except for him as a hafiz, it was in his head. He could recite it whenever he wanted to no end. Still, I had been looking up the Names of Allah Subhanahu to vary my invocations. I realized why in the three prayers where the recitation of the Surah was changed from Ikhlas to the reader’s choice, repetition was makrooh, disliked by God. It made sense. People who keep saying the same thing every time you meet them are deathly boring. I can’t figure out for the life of me what’s happening in their head.

 

I asked my cousin, Sanya, who was a therapist why they did that. She was very helpful.

 

“One answer could be that there mind is still trying to make sense of it. The issue remains unresolved.”

 

Suddenly I remembered all the instances when I was a parrot in rote myself precisely because something was stuck in my head!

 

Still I had said in the lecture to the kids.

 

“Even if you don’t have something new to call out to Allah Subhanahu and you keep saying the same Name again and again and again, it will gain His Attention. Imagine if you’re sitting with someone who doesn’t pay any attention to you. If you start saying their name over and over in your sentences, even they will eventually turn around and finally say, ‘WHAT’?”

The approach made me smile as I said it and the kids laugh.

 

But its result was undeniable.

 

There were many Names whose meaning I did not even know. I knew what I would be working on next with Qari Sahib. It would just be the tafseer of the Exalted Names of Allah Subhanahu in various verses of the Quran. Each context would reveal something new, unveil a secret. Which would change my prayer and perhaps me with it!

 

Qari Sahib asked me what had been happening in the weeks he was gone. I told him the verse that had been my primary focus while he was away. How to avoid with gracious avoidance. He asked me who I had learnt to apply the verse upon. Who had to be avoided beautifully. After all we were also friends.

 

“The details behind it don’t really matter anymore Sir. The experience for me was revelatory in terms of deconstructing behaviour. Mine as well as others. People get used to living in a cave of pain. Because of something that happened to them. Or even something that continues to happen to them. A cave is a cave, it’s drenched only in darkness.

 

Then one day the person in it raises their hands to the heavens and asks for a ray of light. Soon after, exactly such a ray of light pierces the hard rock near the mouth of the cave and enters it. Mesmerized by the appearance, they start walking towards it. That pursuit is what makes them, perhaps unknowingly, leave the cave after ages.

 

Once outside they see the blues of the sky and the greens of trees and grass. They hear birds and see butterflies. They notice colours and sounds that imbue nature. They see their heart fleeing towards all of that beauty, they feel its elation. The joy is uncontrollable, it cannot be hidden. It is forced to reveal itself, it requires expression.

 

And then out of nowhere they remind themselves, forcibly, of the cave. Of those many days and nights that were spent there. They asks themselves, “But isn’t that out real abode?” After all, it was what shaped their identity, public and private, for years. You weren’t here Sir so I asked someone else who lives and exits such a cave himself from time to time this question.

 

‘I just want to know this. In those steps,’ I said to my friend, ‘when the person has turned their back on the sun and the moon, in that walk back to the cave just before re-entering it, what is the thought in their mind?’ I truly had no idea.

 

My friend looked away and with a most knowing expression turned back to say to me, ‘They are saying, “I am in charge of my life. I will take care of things. I am the one who knows what best for me, what I like, how I like it. I will decide my matters.”’

Then he paused and said softly, ‘They feel a pride in their pain. But mostly I guess they are ungrateful. Why else or rather how else does one walk from light towards darkness.’”

 

He made me think of Allah’s Name, An Noor!

 

“From the root, noon, wao, ra, which has the following classical Arabic connotations: to give light, to illuminate, to fill with light to clarify, to reveal, to make visible to blossom, to be in bloom (revealed) to be flaming, blazing and apparent to the senses to enlighten, give counsel and give advice.”

 

Qari Sahib listened to me quietly. He gave me a reference where Allah Subhanahu was stating that the trajectory of life was the opposite. And the darkness I was wondering about was clearly defined!

 

ٱللَّهُ وَلِىُّ ٱلَّذِينَ ءَامَنُوا۟ يُخْرِجُهُم مِّنَ ٱلظُّلُمَـٰتِ إِلَى ٱلنُّورِ

 

Allah is the Protecting Guardian of those who believed.

He brings them out from the darkness towards the light.

Surah Al Baqarah, Verse 257

 

Tafseer e Jilani:

 

Allahu: The One who is The Gatherer of All Attributes and All Names…

 

Walliulladina Aamino: He is The Friend of those who bring faith upon Him. He raises them, according to His Qualities and all that He encompasses (which is everything)…

 

Yukhrijjuhum min adulumaat: and brings them out of the darkness, which is the darkness of their nature and darkness of their doubts (of possibilities) and all other darkness…

 

Ilan Noor: towards the Light, crystal clear, His Pure One-ness, free of dust and all other associations.

 

For the first time every time I translated a verse, I looked for one of my Rabb’s Names. The Name in this one with Allah was Wali-un.

 

“From the root wao, laam, ye, which has the following classical Arabic connotation: to be near, close, nearby to be a friend, helper, supporter, maintainer to defend, guard to be in charge, to turn one towards something to be the master, owner, lord.

 

I had found a website with the Exalted Names (myislam.org/99-names-of-allah/). I chose it because in it were also the verses where they appeared in the Quran. I started making a list to memorize the verses. To study their tafseer, to utter them, those praises, in my namaz. I wanted to learn as many of them as I could to gain His Attention.

 

For the line in the qayam of namaz itself made the point best:

 

سَمِعَ اللَّهُ لِمَنْ حَمِدَهُ

 

Allah hears whoever praises Him.

 

Hazrat Sahel Tustari (ra) says that two things are a direct consequence of relying on one’s own self. The worst of behaviour damaging to one’s own self; anger, harshness.

 

“Truly anger (ghadab) and harshness (hidda) come from the servant’s dependence on his own strength (quwwa). However, when he gives up relying on his own strength, weakness will take up residence in his soul, and this will generate mercy (rahma) and benevolence (lutf) from him, which is to take on the characteristics of the Lord, His Majesty be magnified.”

 

Allah Al Qawwi, Allah Ar Raheem, Allah Al Lateef!

 

I looked up Al Lateef. Kindness was the key for any goodness to count said Nabi Kareem (peace be upon him and his family). Without it the entire act was void!

 

“From the root laam, ta, fa, which has the following classical Arabic connotation: to be thin, delicate, refined, elegant, graceful, gentle, gracious, courteous, kindly, subtle, to the know the obscurities of all affairs, to treat with regard for circumstances, to be the most soothing and refined in manner, to treat with kindness, goodness, gentleness, benevolence, and affection.”

 

‏ٱللَّهُ لَطِيفٌۢ بِعِبَادِهِۦ

 

Allah is Gentle for His Worshippers.

Surah Ash Shura, Verse 19

 

Said Al Ghazali about the Name and Attribute, “The one who understands this Name knows the subtleties of those things which are beneficial, as well as their hidden aspects, along with what is subtle about them and what is benevolent. In conveying them to those who are deserving, he is committed to the path of gentleness rather than harshness.”

 

There was that word again, harshness.

 

In this last experience I had learnt that the harshness that people dealt out was in fact indifference. First turned upon themselves and therefore very easily on others. And anger, Ghaus Pak (ra) had said in multiple tafaseer of the word, was a pure disruption of the mind. It the forced the exit of the aql, the ability to consider, in the first instant of its appearance. Its other guaranteed consequence was a false sense of dignity which the nafs, the base self, and Iblis used as their major weapon to destroy peace of mind most easily by plying on justification.

 

Justification was always the trap. A trap that even Prophets admited:

 

‏ وَمَآ أُبَرِّئُ نَفْسِىٓ ۚ إِنَّ ٱلنَّفْسَ لَأَمَّارَةٌۢ بِٱلسُّوٓءِ إِلَّا مَا رَحِمَ رَبِّىٓ ۚ إِنَّ رَبِّى غَفُورٌۭ رَّحِيمٌۭ ‎

 

"And yet I am not trying to absolve my nafs, self.

Indeed, the nafs is a certain inciter of evil,

unless [that] my Lord bestows Mercy. Indeed, my Lord (is) Oft-Forgiving, Most Merciful."

Surah Yusuf, Verse 53

 

Tafseer e Jilani

 

The he, Hazrat Yusuf (as) said:

 

Wa ma ubarri’o: And I do not absolve and do not justify…

 

Nafsi: my nafs, my self, from furataat, excessiveness and ghafalaat, forgetfulness and shameful thoughts and repulsive deeds according to the demands of the organs of lust and animalistic desires and how can I absolve myself and justify it?

 

Inna an nafsa: Indeed the nafs, the base self, that has been embodied in the nature of human beings…

 

La-Ammaarat-un: the forceful commanding of which is by its nature towards …

 

Bis su’: wrong-doing and fasaad, corruption and its focus upon that whenever it’s free and is its nature…

 

Illa ma rahima Rabbi: except for the one upon whom is bestowed the Mercy of my Lord i.e. Allah protects that nafs by His Endless Mercy and Affection from its transgressions and the whisperings of Satan towards it.

 

Inna Rabbi: Indeed my Lord, who has raised me with safeguarding from sin and with virtuousness…

 

Ghafooran: is All Forgiving of that which has happened from me from the occurrences of my nafs…

 

Raheemun: is All Merciful. He bestows Mercy towards me with His Fazal, Bounty and He preserves me with His Lutf, Kindness, from those things that make me distant from His Kunuf, Protection and His Jawaar, Safety.

 

Ghaus Pak (ra) says in Al Fath Ar Rabbni: “You are a Munafiq because you are a hypocrite to your own nafs. Because you lie to it.” All those years of lying. The nafs now in control, the tabyat overwhelming the fitrat, was just lying back. It was the fruits of seeds sown, unwittingly, in a state of unawareness.

 

For anger the words Kadimeen al ghaid from a verse came to mind: for those who restrain it!

 

‏ٱلَّذِينَ يُنفِقُونَ فِى ٱلسَّرَّآءِ وَٱلضَّرَّآءِ وَٱلْكَظِمِينَ ٱلْغَيْظَ وَٱلْعَافِينَ عَنِ ٱلنَّاسِ ۗ

وَٱللَّهُ يُحِبُّ ٱلْمُحْسِنِينَ ‎ ‎

 

Those who spend in ease and in hardship and those who restrain the anger and those who pardon the people - and Allah loves the Muhsineen, the good-doers.

Surah Aal e Imran, Verse 134

 

Tafseer e Jilani

 

Alladina yunfiqoona: They (the Muttaqeen) are the ones who spend from the good that they earn from a livelihood that is tangible and intangible on the ones who are deserving from the Servants of Allah. It is equal for them…

 

Fi sarra’e: in happiness, meaning when they are free of their busyness which is being a hurdle from true focus upon Allah…

 

Wa darra’ae: in difficulty in the happening of incidents which happen to them because of their necessities of being human beings.

 

Wal kadimeen al ghaida: And (the Muttaqeena) are Al Maasikeena, those who hold, Al Kaafeena, those who stop, their anger at the time of sudden arousal of the expression of it and the storm of (fake) dignity of being a human being that rises from the requirements of the animalistic (show of) strength.

 

Wal aafina an in-naas: And they forgive people, they are the ones who pardon and give up punishing of those who do wrong to them and those who are unjust to them because they are steadfast upon Tauheed, Allah’s One-ness, which decimates the additional feelings (of anger) and conflicts overall.

 

Wallahu: And Allah Al Muttali’u, The One who is Watchful, of the secrets of His Servants...

 

Yuhibbul Muhsineen: loves them with all their types of good deeds, especially the controlling of anger and forgiving despite power (not to do so).

 

And the Prophet (peace be upon him) said: “Indeed, these people (the Muhsineen) are few in my nation except the ones safeguarded by Allah and certainly they were many in the nations before mine.”

 

Again the words appeared to define anger; show of strength, again a false sense of dignity.

 

I went back to the verse on “gracious avoidance.” Ghaus Pak’s (ra) tafseer on Allah Subhanahu’s instruction of that avoidance was imbued with lutf, kindness and gentleness. Why?

Because the first words he used in the interaction with them was “be smiling and cheerful.”

 

I realized from those words that he taught me something I could never have known otherwise. If the heart likes someone and affection has been placed in it, forcing it to dislike them, be harsh or angry with them, only causes intense distress. Hence one was allowed and even told to meet them smiling and cheerful because that’s exactly how the heart in fact wanted to greet them.

 

When we were translating it, I even asked Qari Sahib why the words repeated; smiling, cheerful. Didn’t they mean the same thing?

 

He said, “It’s because sometimes the mouth smiles but the forehead hides a frown. There is a disconnect, an insincerity. Ghaus Pak (ra) is saying, be both and be both truthfully.”

 

I have to say I felt over the moon. I was one of those who distressed my heart to no end in forcing it to feel “a false sense of dignity” under a guise of preserving self-esteem. I then became one of those that inflicted harshness upon my own nafs.

 

In those early days of Muharram I tried to listen to only lectures about the event of Karbala. Not listening to music was something I had done as a child because my family did it. For years that was the only thing I didn’t do. This year I tried to keep my focus on the blessed persons of the family of the Messenger who perfects the Messengers (peace be upon him) and them alone.

 

One of them happened to be on Imam Hussain’s (as) son, the sole male survivor of Karbala: Imam Zain ul Abideen (as).

 

Part II Continued on: www.flickr.com/photos/42093313@N00/52273833091/in/datepos...

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