Ramadan 2009 : Day 26 Jaihoon’s journal on the Holy Month Since morning my heart was throbbing for the night festivities. Every moment of Ramadan is precious. The last ten is even more. The odd nights the most! Enlivening the Night of Power is the booty of the believers. The heart had only one prize in mind. To win the Trophy of His Pleasure, before it meets the Lord on day of Hashr. This night charity flows like a breeze. Water and eatables are distributed to all. Kindness on the roads, upon pedestrians who cross. Quran is fervently read, as if it was just sent. On cheeks tears rolled, on lips Allah’s praises extolled. On the night of 27th, Ramadan reaches its zenith. We left early, but that it wasn’t good enough. As we reached, the roads from far was closed. That night there were going to be more believers on the road than cars. The gardens and parks were going to be watered with Allah’s servants’ tears. We placed our prayer rug on the footpath. The streetlight gave me enough radiance for Qira’at. I gave a look into the sky. No, I could not see the angels or the ‘Ar Rooh’ descending from the skies. Yes, the fault was mine in my eyes and heart, not of the creatures of light. The Imam started with Sura Ar-Rahman (Most Merciful). Subhanallah, What a choice, for the night full of Grace! What could stop it (the Grace) from descending from the skies! What a key to open the doors of His Mercy! What a stick to knock on the heavens! The second verse, is an ocean of meaning terse. He taught us to understand Quran in a language we can understand, not in wild Greek alien to those on earth. The second Sura was even more endearing. Its reference in the verse “And those Foremost (in Faith) will be Foremost (in the Hereafter). These will be those Nearest to Allah (verse 10,11).: Sabiqoon, or the foremost ones, are those who prefer and crave for the closeness to Allah than the blessings in paradise. I remembered the poem I wrote earlier based on this topic, “His Nearness, our Paradise – Rabia Basri’s reply to Jaihoon” (jaihoon/872.htm). In her intense love of God, Rabia was more interested in meeting Him after death than entering paradise or escaping hell. The Imam reached the part where Allah reached the last where Allah asks a direct question, 68. Tell Me! The water that you drink. 69. Is it you who cause it from the rain clouds to come down, or are We the Causer of it to come down? 70. If We willed, We verily could make it salt (and undrinkable), why then do you not give thanks (to Allah)? I thought about the mineral water bottles given by volunteers lying in front of me. What if… if they were like Allah asked? So little thanks do I give for His countless blessings. After a few raka’at, as we sat for rest, I recalled a hadith which the Beloved so lovingly prayed for. “May Allah bless the man who gets up during the night to pray and wakes up his wife and who, if she refuses to get up, sprinkles water on her face. And may Allah bless the woman who gets up during the night to pray and wakes up her husband and who, if he refuses, sprinkles water on his face.” (Ahmad) Mine, who was at least a thousand and half miles away on her vacation. I picked the phone and rang. But she was already reciting His Book while listening to the melody of Kerala monsoon rains. We reached the final dua session in Witr. All cried as if they were little infants crying for their mothers. ‘O Allah! Who created us and fashioned us. If You don’t forgive us, there is none besides. We have nowhere else to knock. You have other slaves too: more pious, more virtuous. There is no shortage of those who call upon You. Answer us, as You have promised. Sent us not empty handed fro Your majestic Presence. O Allah. O Most Merciful. O the who knows in and out. Forgive us and protect us. Ya Ilahana…’ We returned with eyes swollen and body shivering. There were no cars, all people around. I called my grandmother in Kerala and she was having her sahri. We prayed for each other. That night I didn’t sleep. Allah had given a gift that night as I heard my offspring speaking of his love for the Beloved of Almighty ‘I love Rasool more than Allah. Why did Rasool have to die?’ And he runs around playing reciting the Durood. It reminded me of the lines of Allama Iqbal, the ardent lover of Madina “Prophet is the strength of my heart A little more than Allah Is he dear to my heart” “Train your children to acquire three characteristics: love of your Prophet, love of his family and reading the Quran, for the bearers of the Quran will be in the shade of Allah on the Day when there will be no shade except His, with His Prophets and His chosen ones.” (Narrated by al-Suyuti in al-Jami’ al-Sagher) Masha Allah, everything is with the bounty from Allah. As Allah says, “And as for thy Lord’s favor, declare it.”
Posted on: Sun, 04 Aug 2013 11:00:01 +0000
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