The Observer

Bismillah...

In the nook of the world

there, a figure sat in deep thought

desert dust under the fingertips

dry wind sighs

here is the weeping land

he reminisce his childhood at the small countryside 

how it reflects of innocence

of moral, good thoughts and good deeds

here, in this city, for 35 years

seen grief, despair

greed, corruption

the heart build with a certain dissatisfaction

a certain wrong that only few could see

him and his dear friend

there's a deep wrong in his society

and no one else seems to understand it

a stranger among their midst

felt the love of the people

yet, not on how they have lived their life as

 a few nights passed when another visited him

the manner he approached was frightening in his hold

warm in his conduct and speech

"Read," he said, three times before he finally released his hold

and like light pouring to his soul

the words came

...and when it ended

he ran, frightened

of what he had seen

of what had been told

and of who he really was

 "blanket me, blanket me!"

on reaching home, shoulders wrapped in a blanket

he narrated what had happened, fearing himself 

yet his kind wife comforted him

"Rejoice, O son of my uncle, and be of good heart. Surely by Him in whose hand is my soul, I have hope that you will be the prophet of this people. You have never done any wrong to anyone. You are kind to others and you help the poor. So Allah will not let you down."

he fell asleep

and when he woke up, his kind wife brought him to her uncle

"This is the same one who keeps the secrets (Jibril) whom Allah had sent to Moses. I wish I were young and could live up to the time when your people would turn you out."

"..and would I be turn out?"

"Yes..as were your brothers before you."

and so begins

the battle of will, heart, emotion, strength

a lifetime

when the value of right and wrong weigh by His scale

challenge the life he had known

how the Jahiliyyah need to be removed even with a chisel

even with it takes part of his heart every single time

when they lashed out

when he was beaten

when he was ridiculed

when his daughter cried, removing the camel's intestine thrown on his back

"do not weep, my daughter, For Allah swt shall protect your father."

his battles continue
yet he survived
his wife and his uncle were his biggest supporter
but the pressure of his people begin to weigh heavily on his uncle
and wearily, his uncle tried to reason with him, on the basis of what had been done to his family (disorientation, angst)
..and you're done with this, aren't you? A fight you couldn't understand.
“By God! If they were to place the sun in my right hand and the moon in my left hand in order to abandon this mission, I would not do so until it has been well established or I would perish in my attempt to do so,” he resolved.
dejected, he walked away.

on seeing his nephew's back, he too resolved,
 "I swear by God that I will not quit supporting you and will not let them hurt you."

- - -

family is family
whether in faith or otherwise

... but I can hope, can't I?

"And those who believed and whose descendants followed them in faith - We will join with them their descendants, and We will not deprive them of anything of their deeds. Every person, for what he earned, is retained."
At-Tur, 52: 21

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