My heart has been in quite a turmoil the past few days. People don’t seem to know or care how their actions affect others. On top of that, I feel this huge gulf between me and my Creator. :(
It was last night’s terawih prayers. The moment the bilal gave the call and mentioned Sayyidina Abu Bakr’s RA name, my eyes started tearing. The Imam then read al-Fatiha.
Master of the Day of Judgment.
At that moment, the mosque disappeared, the prayer rug disappeared, and I was in a strange landscape. It was dark, my heart in terror and I could see the dusty ground.
I was on my knees. My neck turned down at an angle, my head unable to move because of the sheer magnificence of the Presence before me.
My arms were stretched forward; in my palm, I held a rotting, black heart. This was all I had to present to my Creator.
How ashamed I felt. I tried to think of the things I had done. Each time I thought of something, another voice would counter me.
“I consistently prayed 5 times a day.”
“But your prayers were void of the remembrance of Me. Your stand, your prostration, were all nothing but physical acts.”
“I fasted in Ramadhan and outside of Ramadhan!”
“But you failed to keep yourself away from sin and harboured ill thoughts about your fellow Muslims.”
“I wore the hijab and did not let a man see me.”
“Your hijab and long robes were nothing but a glamour parade for you and did nothing to your heart except to veil it from Me.”
“Please ya Rabbi.. I read the Qur’an. Let it be a syafaah for me!”
“Your recitation was no more than the perfect articulation of sounds. You did not understand what you read and did not heed the advice that I gave in the Qur’an. Reminders of the Last Day and the meeting with Me were vain murmurings to your ears!”
“I sent Salaam to the Prophet SAW. Let him be a syafaah for me!”
“Your love for him was nothing but a lie. You attended majalis that honoured him to enjoy the music and the food and the company of friends. Far away was that from honouring him!”
At that moment, 2 great tall dark figures dragged me roughly and I knew where I was heading. I struggled and screamed, crying and kicking and still they dragged me, the sound of chains clacking against each other. At the far corner of my eye, I saw a man look away. Even he could not save me, a hypocrite from his ummah.
The rest of my terawih was spent in tears and absolute grief.