Attending a burial and a reminder

rLast Friday, I received a forwarded text from one of my colleagues informing us that his father had passed away early that morning. He was to be buried after Friday prayers. So, me and a group of my work-mates went to visit their home and as we reached there, the family were on their way out to attend the burial.

So, we followed them and went to the burial site. We waited for a while discussing work issues and soon, the burial van arrived.

We went to the grave site and two white tents were set up to shelter us from the hot blazing sun. The time was 14.30. The grave was already dug up. 7 feet long and 7 feet deep. The body shrouded in white cloth ready to be buried in its place. We stood there feeling sombre, looking at one another with different thoughts entering our minds. A few of our other colleagues were there and our faculty Dean was there as well. We didn't know his mom, his relatives and only a few of us have met his wife but we felt part of the family. We felt we belonged there. I shook and kissed the hands of some of his aunties.

My colleague was standing inside the grave with another two men ready to carry the body of his beloved father and place it inside the grave. When they were ready, they placed his body there, covered the tiny space with a plank of wood, leaving inches of gap for the body to reside and then earth was poured back into its place.

I can't remember ever attending a burial, maybe when I was just a few years old and not understood the true meaning of life and death but on that day, I understood. Here is a man who is successful, loved by so many and he is gone forever from this world and so will we, all of us.

The earth has finally covered the grave and they made the earth slightly raised, placing two plants and a grave stone marking the solitary resident. They placed mats next to the grave and the men sat down beside it. The Imam recited the 'Talkin', it is a reminder for the solitary companion and what would happen to him as our footsteps leave his grave. He was reminded that two angels will come to greet him and that he should not be afraid as they too are the creations of God. They will ask him 'Who is your Lord?" and he should answer with certainty that "Allah is my Lord" and they will ask him "Who is your Imam" and he should answer "Muhammad (saw) is my Imam (prophet)" and they will ask him "What is your Deen" and he should answer "Islam is my Deen" and so on...

It is an answer that we should be clear and certain about in this life because on that day, we cannot lie and we cannot guess...we have to know for sure. One by one thoughts entered my head...this will be me one day. One day, I might be standing here and it could be my father or my mother in there...all the feelings of fear, sadness, hope, gratefulness was in my heart. The idea of attending my father or mother's burial was something that has crossed my mind before but I've tried to suppressed it, to ignore it. I'm not ready to face that but does it matter whether I am ready or not? Who am I? God has decided the ajal (life span) for all of us and it doesn't matter whether we are ready or not.

What about myself? am I ready? We all know the answer to that. The Imam reminded us that it doesn't matter who you are, what status you held in this worldly life, whether you were rich or poor, King or servant...in the end, you will die with nothing, without your wealth, without your family, without your titles but only with your Iman (faith) and Amal Soleh (good deeds). Whatever you are and whoever you are is only the enjoyment in this life but when you are placed inside that tiny hole, you will leave it all behind and you will return to God with nothing else but your belief in Him and your obedience to Him. So, am I ready? I still know the answer to that.

This life is so deceptive and we never think about death enough, enough to give us courage to fight for what is right, for justice, for the Truth. We live in a Capitalist world where pleasure, wealth and enjoyment is the ultimate goal and we forget the Akhirah (Hereafter). We forget to ask certain questions. Most of the time we ask ourselves when we are reminded of death, what should I be like? how should I change myself? That is important but it is not enough. Do we ever ask ourselves, "What should the world be like?" but instead, we simply accept the status quo and we accept the Kufur system being ruled over us as if it is legitimate. Have we even thought about it?

All thoughts swirled inside my head as I stood there unable to control a few strands of tears. I never knew him but I felt the pain of his widow as she sat there, consoled by her daughters. I see the grief in my colleagues eyes and I see mixed emotions and thoughts pouring out from all of us that was there. The Imam read the dua (prayer) and it was over...we expressed our condolences to our colleague and he thanked us for coming. We turned around and started to walk away, returning to our worldly life and with each step we took, I knew that the angels were waiting...

Homesickness

I am now feeling homesick

One year on...and honeymoon is over and I'm missing UK terribly. Maybe it is because I'm forgetting all the negative aspects of life in UK such as Islamaphobia, hypocrisy etc...etc...but despite all of that, I felt that I knew what was right and wrong, good and bad, what is Islam and what is Kufur but here, everything is blurry and mixed up like 'rojak'. Also, most of the Malay guys have no understanding of the concept of lowering the gaze except for the ones wearing the white robes and 'topi'. I've seen quite a few of those and their wives wear Niqab. It is quite nice cause it reminds me of the UK. I know, strange!

Maybe I'm just going through another phase in life, whatever that phase is...

Truth is, I can't just pick up where I left 17 years ago. Things have changed and I have changed. It is not easy for me to understand what is going on and as you get older, you get more stuck in your own ways and no matter how adaptable I thought I was, it is not that easy to simply adapt just like that...

I am meeting characters that I've not encountered for a long time. People who are loud, boisterous and totally unpredictable and they speak in Malay accents I don't understand. They behave in ways I don't understand and most of the time, I don't even know how to react. I am also meeting other characters who are...how should I say...I don't know if I'm the only person who finds it weird but some girls can be completely rude and they seem not to like you for no reason at all, talking to you as though they are being forced to with such a sour face and menjeling-jeling. I don't think I've ever done anything to them and sometimes I'm seeing them for the first time. I don't know...someone told me that it is because they are defensive or feeling threatened but why? A bit lacking in the neuron department maybe.

I miss my friends in UK terribly...all the sisters who are so strong in the Deen. How they kept me on the straight and narrow. When I was in the UK, I didn't adopt the British culture but I found the Islamic culture in the sisters. I mean I'm still struggling to understand what British culture is apart from tea-drinking, queuing up, stiff upper lip, moaning a lot and sarcasm. Other than that, it is all about freedom and individualism which we ought to reject as Muslims. Human beings aren't free rather we are subjected to everything that God has created. Our only freedom is the choice to believe or to reject faith, obey God's commands or disobey. Hence, freedom is about accountability and responsibility which is not freedom at all. So, life in UK was clear and the ideas were clear. Why can't it be clear now? Why is it all hazy and mixed up...I don't understand!!!

Anyway, I have made some really good friends and of course I have my Croydon Malay posse' and for the most part, life is happier. It is still early days and I think I have a lot to think about.