They Teach Life

اِنّا لِلّهِ وَاِنّا اِلَيْهِ رَاجِعُون

Surely to Allah we belong and to Him we will all return

I stand on my privilege and ask my sadness: what is it doing here? How dare it exist in this space when I’ve only uttered this phrase a handful of times? 

And yet how many times have they proclaimed it
in just the past hour?

My carelessness affords me the luxury to forget a truth so palpable. Yet to them it is manifested in every moment with every innocent soul returning to their Creator, wondering 

for what crime they were put to death [81:9]

I am left drowning in a sadness I feel responsible for creating

after all, the “freedom” I enjoy funds their destruction.
استغفر الله العظيم
I seek forgiveness from Allah the Mighty

I wonder how many times I can ask for forgiveness until it is enough

 if it will ever be enough

The holiest month of the year arrives and the ache in my heart is twinged with a pang of something that I cannot name in this dimension. I do not feel my fast but this year it is not a boast of being so pious that hunger is not felt

As if I even know what piety is anymore

“There are people in Gaza waiting for Muslims on the other side of the world to pray their Fajr on time,” the Imam says and the emotions I’ve been suppressing are coaxed out of the crevices of my heart

We must do better, we must

The adhan for Maghrib reverberates around me but I have no appetite, just guilt that eats me up from inside—leaving no space for hunger to exist anymore

لَآ اِلٰهَ اِلَّآ اَنتَ سُبحٰنَکَ اِنِّی کُنتُ مِنَ الظَّالِمِینَ
There is no deity except You; exalted are You.
Indeed, I have been of the wrongdoers

I am surrounded by darkness as I scroll myself into numbness. I have not learned how to honor my heart in a way that does not ruin any semblance of normalcy

How can everything continue to be normal
when the world is burning?

Except what are you doing but
continuing to run on this hamster wheel?

I tell myself it is for a bigger purpose further down the line, for saving humanity through even
just
one
life
but I have seen so much death at my fingertips it seems as if nothing matters except for this current moment. My tears escape in the dark just as I think

what will I answer when asked about this?

ااَللَّهُمَّ صَلِّى عَلَى مُحَمَّدٍٍ، وَعَلَى آلِهِ مُحَمَّدٍٍ
Oh Allah, send blessings upon our Prophet Muhammad (S)

I find myself suddenly ill in the middle of summer. His words (peace be upon him) abruptly flood my mind:

“No fatigue, no disease, nor sorrow,
nor sadness, nor hurt, nor distress
befalls a Muslim, even if it were the prick
he receives from a thorn,
but that Allah expiates some of his sins for that” (Bukhari)

I can’t help but think this is a form of expiation

for being complicit while existing in this terror

I can’t meet eyes with myself for fear of shame but somehow this out-of-the-blue illness makes me stronger as I imagine the reward of the martyrs rejoicing with their Lord,

and that is the only comfort I can find nowadays

لَا حَوْلَ وَلَا قُوَّةَ إِلَّا بِٱللَّٰهِ ٱلْعَلِيِّ ٱلْعَظِيمِ
There is no might nor power except with Allah
The Most High, The Supreme

I read words that should never be used to describe human bodies and an avalanche of tears threatens to escape from me on this random Sunday afternoon

How many tears did you cry for them
before this terror?

And how many more tears have you cried in the unmeasurable days. The tears that travel to God Almighty Himself, the ones He vows to honor and save from the fire

I wonder if that’ll be it

The way we’ll meet these heroes who are traveling directly to Jannah. Shame exists in the lump in my throat and I cannot exist in this state except to turn to Al Shaheed – The Witness

He, the One who Sees His servants who bow down amidst rubble, who make masajid out of the streets that will bear witness for them on the Day that Justice will prevail.

And prevail, it will
حَسْبُنَا اللَّهُ وَنِعْمَ الْوَكِيلُ
Sufficient for us is Allah,
and [He is] the best Disposer of affairs

For the beautiful mother who proclaimed this with a smile on her face as she looked at the Heavens above, as if she could see the Angels escorting the soul of her child into the highest levels of Jannah. Just like our Mother Asiya R prayed – 

رَبِّ ابْنِ لِي عَنْدَكَ بَيْتاً فِي الْجَنَّةِ وَ نَجِّني مَنْ فِرْعَوْنَ وَعَمَلِهِ وَ نَجِّني مِنَ الْقَوْمِ الظَّالِمينَ
“My Lord! Build me a house in Paradise near You,
deliver me from Pharaoh and his ˹evil˺ doing,
and save me from the wrongdoers.” (66:11)

Their homes in Jannah are waiting for them, as they are showing us the true Reality

it’s not this life we are after, it’s the next

And so here I am once again, standing on my privilege with a mountain of sadness—except it will not weigh me down but I shall weaponize it to act

to pray

to march

to commit

to freedom.

Oh people of Palestine,
please allow my tears to bear witness of the immense love I have for you
Even when I feel completely hopeless, these tears of mine are for you,
these hands of mine pray for you
And I pray we meet one day in the place
where His Justice prevails

Author’s Note: Words are often my refuge but lately words haven’t felt sufficient. This piece is a compilation of the many feelings I’ve felt over the past few months, organized by the dhikr that my Imam taught me should be made during times of trials. My writing often is written in a stream of consciousness style in an effort to capture the feelings that often feel larger than life. This piece attempts to witness the chaos of emotions felt while leaning towards faith for sanity.