Khatam (End)

It was a flood of people. Women to be exact, a flood of women waiting for the hall doors to open. Some had babies in their hands, others had bottles of water, most were dressed for a special occasion for it indeed was a special occasion.

In the Islamic way of life it is required that once someone finishes reciting the holy book, the Quran, they must read a special prayer. In the month of Ramadan, the month this great book was revealed, the value of finishing is magnified and so people gather to mosques to pray together. However this year was the first year I felt it, the glory, the magnificence, the immense presence of the words of a book so many avoid reading.

The hall finally opened and the flood washed in. It took not a minute for the rows to be made, bottles to be set in front and children disciplined. The organization, the ability for hundreds of women (and men on their side) to stand and bow and prostrate in unison. The smallest child even knew what was happening and it’s value, maybe they did not understand its value, but they knew it was important.

Finally the prayer was done and it was time for the dua’a. We raised our hands in front of us as the Imam began in Arabic. He called upon the Lord, he called Allah by his many names and he admitted our weakness. We are nothing. We are not even ants in an ocean, we are less than that to He who created us.

One can easily forget in their busy body lifestyle, their daily routines, their high up positions and their degrees that, none of it matters. These things we’ve given so much value are like plastic painted with a gold shine – it doesn’t hold any real worth, only the one we have given it. But what do we really have to give? Nothing. Because we are nothing.

The Imam proceeded in Arabic calling for Allah’s mercy and blessing, he called for His protection, His forgiveness, His guidance and His light. It was in a language I cannot understand very well so it did not touch me as much as it touched its speakers. Then, he began in my mother tongue, Urdu, and it was if I sat alone in the universe.

As the man pleaded, begged, cried to our Creator for mercy, I heard sniffles behind me. It was not uncommon for many to cry as they remember every wrong the have done without a blink. Normally, I would think about it, say sorry and move on but this time was different. This time I felt the poison in me. My own body was surfacing the black goo that I had put in it. The black dots on my heart burned. Every time the Imam mentioned how humanity has gone so far astray, that we do not even feel remorse, I felt a silver arrow stab my heart. The fire spread throughout my body, grazing every nerve. My hair stood to attention as it does when I feel watched and when I am scared.

It was true, it was all true.

Most people have experienced a broken heart. It starts with the disbelief that it actually happening, because how can it? It was all going so well. The burning sensation in your chest slaps you and tells you its real, it’s very real. You are horrified because there’s no running away.

Slowly the heat was replaced by a cool feeling of water. As if the soft waves were rushing against me, hitting where the burns had scarred me. I felt exposed in an ocean of nothingness. My eyes closed, I had no idea of the time. How long had it been? Minutes? Hours? I didn’t have a clue.

Suddenly the Iman’s voice got louder again. He was crying

I have not heard many men cry. Women are notorious for wailing at every little sadness, but men are not. When I heard the man who had taught me to read the holy book, once upon a time, cry I felt my brave heart – burned and scarred – shatter. The silver arrow slid away, the water moved in faster and stronger and heavier. I heard someone say “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, forgive me.” I realized it was me. Images, memories, thoughts that haunted me when I tried to sleep ,surfaced with the water. Cluttering inside my mind like noise. Things I had done, said and seen, things I had pushed to the edges of my mind because I’d rather not face them again, came forward demanding to be acknowledged. “You brought us into your life, now deal with us” they said. What was I supposed to do? So I let them be.

“We are born into this world crying while others are smiling and rejoicing. Oh Lord let us leave this world so that others are crying and we are smiling”

The water engulfed me. My cool fingertips were joined my chest and neck, and eyes and forehead. It was cool but it was dry. It felt like water but smelt like wind. I breathed in more water and it in turn filled me. Drowning the thoughts I wished never to see again. Cleaning them, shining them as marvelous examples of the trials I had lived through, the tests I had passed. I no longer felt shame, but pride that my Creator had seen this, He had given me the ability and I used it to my triumph.

Finally, the wind flood passed and there was silence.

We will test you until We know the true fighters among you and those who are steadfast and test what is reported of you. (47:31)

Mothers, daughters, sisters, and their children, all silent as they made their own prayers. Each had their trials and tribulations, each had their woes, and each knew there was only one being that could actually help them without asking for anything return, because He is always just waiting for us to ask – but we never do. We are so short-sighted we only believe in what we see in front of us. Truthfully we are only looking, we don’t see until our eyes are closed and our hands are up. We don’t see unless it is the right time and place, and it concerns us or benefits us. We just keep looking hoping to see something.

I came back to the hall as the Imam began praying in English. This time I traveled through the land. The war, the destruction, the turmoil and the unearthed demons that were the reasons for past nations’ destruction. We have forgotten our history and dug the Earth to the core to find it again. Instead we found theories and ideas and stories but never the real Truth. The truth behind it all is on our shelves collecting dust. Every new layer we discover of the Earth we think we have found the core but then a new layer is discovered and the earlier layer becomes finite. We are searching for infinite in a finite world with our finite minds and finite capabilities. We all want the truth, and yet all we spew out is lies, and hate, and deceit.

Abu Hurairah reported that the Prophet (pbuh) said, “When the imam recites, ‘…you should say ‘ameen. If this corresponds to when the angels say it, he will have all of his previous sins forgiven.” [Bukhari]

The prayer ended. A loud ameen was said and I swear it was louder than the number of people there. I felt the word rumble in my heart. Beautiful voices are compared to the singing of Angels, but have you felt the Angels say ameen?

I realized the heat, the water, the wind had all been my imagination. However as I opened my eyes I saw there had indeed been a flood of a kind. It had left the clothes dry but the eyes drenched. It seemed to have poured and poured taking the sins, the guilt and the black dotted shells of hearts with it.

Sweets were being handed out as they people existed. The warm night air kissed my drenched and dried cheeks, congratulating me for supplicating. The flood of women joined the sea of men outside. It was a sight to behold, the massive group of people all coming under the belief of one Allah.

Together, we were an ocean of bright faces and raw hearts.