Ummi's Anecdotes: Parenting Part 2: Sleeping with A Stranger

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Parenting Part 2: Sleeping with A Stranger

The story continues...

It is recommended that a man should meet his future wife...In my case, we had planned to meet but time did not allow us to do that.

I had trusted my naqibah's assurance that he was a good Muslim and a perfect match for me. From his small picture, I thought that he looked ok...pleasing to the eyes.

Even though we had never met, we had decided to get married few months after we were matched by our mutual friends. I was happy but nervous at the same time...

On a fine thanksgiving day, we were solemnized as husband and wife at Portales Islamic Center by brother Abdullah al-Mohanna with mahr of 1 set of Tafhimul Qur'an by Maududi. My wedding had cost me USD30.00...the money that I spent to buy fabrics to make my own wedding gown. The wedding reception was sponsored by an Arab brother. My husband gave me a diamond ring and a pearl necklace as wedding presents. After the solemnization process had done, I met my husband for the first time...he was rather good looking and had a pleasant smile.

That night I slept with a total stranger...a person who I knew only his name. Even though we had never met, I felt that I had known my husband for years...right after I saw my husband for the first time, I had the strangest feeling of deep love for him...the feeling that I had never had just minutes before the akad. We spent three days and nights talking...to know each other since we got married when I had my monthly cycle. After he left for his university, I had missed him so much and I never had experienced this feeling before...missing a guy who I knew for only 3 days...and of course after that our phone bill was more than our food bill. I would rather not eat than not talking to my husband everyday for hours...

Indeed, the feeling of love is from Allah and we have no control over it. I have been blessed with the beautiful feeling...and I felt I truly understood the Qur'anic verse below.

"Dan di antara tanda-tanda kekuasaan-Nya ialah Dia menciptakan untukmu isteri-isteri dari jenismu sendiri, supaya kamu cenderung dan merasa tenteram kepadanya, dan dijadikan-Nya di antaramu rasa kasih dan sayang. Sesungguhnya pada yang demikian itu benar-benar terdapat tanda-tanda bagi kaum yang berpikir." (ar-Rum:21)

My lived experience sound so perfect, so ideal...a match made in heaven...so Islamic and a ticket for happy and successful marriage...but experience informed me that love after marriage is not necessarily the main ingredient for happy marriage...happy marriage requires hard work, a lot of giving and high tolerance between husband and wife.

Many of my friends got married this way and quite a number of them ended with messy divorce...Many of my friends had fallen in love before marriage and they live happily as husband and wife until now...we must understand that we, human, have no control over our feeling...love is God given gift...and it is not wrong to fall in love before marriage...what is wrong is not the feeling but the behavior that some of young people could not control...we must keep in mind that true love should not bring us closer to the hell fire...but should save us from it instead.

This was the beginning of my parenting responsibilities...I had chosen a good partner with Allah's guidance...inshaAllah.

Wa Allahu a'lam

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SMS to Sir Muhammad Iqbal

O Iqbal!

The spring of 2002 beckoned my soul and body;
to witness the Muslim remains of Alhambra, Cordova and Sevilla,
to retrace your noble steps and feel the vibrations of your ectasy,
to feast my aging vision on the haunting grandeur of Alhambra and relish the marchless beauty of Moorish art…

I glided through the cold ruins,
searching for the secrets of the humiliating downfall of Al-Andalus…
The flowing fountains of Jannat’ul-Arif (Generalife) continue to narrate the melancholy of Muslim follies…
How, they succumbed to the same diseases which brought down the mighty Roman Empire
They wrote all over Al-Andalus “La-Ghaliba Illa’Llah”
(There is no vanquisher except Allah)
but they began to worship the mata ad-dunya (pleasures of the world)
and traded their souls for gold, glory, women and wine,
only to end like stray donkeys,
kicked around by the boots Ferdinand and Isabella
Today, pigeons nestle and make love in the ruins,
their droppings strewn all over the walls,
Western tourists pour out buses and planes,
frolicking in romance, obliterating all pains
while Muslim architectural glory continues to boost the coffers of Catholic Spain

I stood, O Iqbal,
on the hill of Alhambra,
“a stranger, gazing at things gone by, dreams of another age”.

O Iqbal!
Your dreams of Islamic renaissance are in tatters,
In your time the tyrant was Frankish colonization,
Today the Slave Master dons the cloak of globalization,
Piercing through the iron curtain, the bamboo curtain, the sahara and the tropical jungles carrying a civilization of McDonalds, KFC’s and Coca Colas,
While eight hundred million people languish in famine and squalor,
You predicted the collapse of godless and materialistic Europe,
But today she is more united and mightier than the Muslim world.

Today, O Iqbal!
The West is supreme and capitalism triumphantly arrogant,
Islam is the new enemy; in your time it was Bolshevism,
and today every Muslim is a potential terrorist,
You are either with the West or you are against it.
If you conform, the Slave Master’s mercy will descend upon you,
offering bread and dust and blankets
(lest you shiver in the thinderstorm of the New Alliance rage)
Today Musulman is languishing
in the trap of the New World Disorder,
a New Slavery in a Boardless Prison.

O Iqbal!
I wish you have heard the guns of Israel,
the cries from Deir Yassin, Shabra, Shatilla and Jenin,
the savage rimblings of Sharon’s tanks,
the merciless bull-dozers tearing into Palestinians homes,
the explosions of teenage suicide bombers,
the ruthless retaliations of Zionist terrorism
(no, no, no, you cannot call it a terrorist state!)

O Iqbal!
You would weep if you know that Pakistan is now bleeding,
Kashmir is bleeding, Chechnya is bleeding, Moroland is bleeding,
And Acheh is bleeding!
And Indian Muslims are burned alive!
A Muslim holocaust is in the making!
Do you know that you cannot call the Slave Master and his friends terrorists?
Only the victims who fight back are terrorists,
Never mind if the Zionist media terrorizes truth or Palestinians or Muslims.
Do you know that
Those who preach pluralism cannot give space to the Din of Islam?
Those who preach democracy in Europe cannot accomodate it in Indonesia, Algeria and Turkey lest would be liberated.

O Iqbal!
Do you know that Islam is to be tolerated by the New Slave Master only if it is Protestantized, Liberalized, Secularized or Westernized?
Only if it is confined to the mosque, to mysticism,
Only if it preaches that all religions are the same.

O Iqbal!
Have you heard what George Tenet said other day:
“The United States is mightier than the Roman Empire and Israel is our friend.”
If you want “peace” you have to lick our shoes,
or else you will be terrorized in the name of peace,
Or else, we will send the thugs and robbers to loot your banks
And they blame you
for “lack of transparency” and “poor corporate governance”.

O Iqbal!
Sixty four years after you returned to the mercy of Ar-Rahman
The world of the Musulman is still in disarray
As beggars, we wait for crumbs to fall from the Slave Master’s plate
Like hungry wolves, we bark and bite one another and plunge at one another’s throat in the name of Jihad
Killing more of our kind than the real enemy,
Kafirizing more than we can Islamize,
Monopolizing the Paradise of Al-Rahman to one’s own Jama’ah
While the Slave Master and his friends rejoice at the Muslim tragedy,acting their script.

O Iqbal!
Don’t turn in your grave if I tell you
that the Muslim world is the champion today in corruption and illiteracy
Or, that our rulers are among the smartest in deceiving the masses,
Having mastered the art from Machiavelli’s Prince.
Or, that some of our elites are the greatest drinkers of the wine of Kafirun,
intoxicated, they try to sell cheap versions of it in their stores,
beguiling the local youth as they deconstruct the blessed Zam-Zam to make it taste like beer and wine,
and succeeding in making the young worship celebrities as divine.
Or, that the Muslim Malay community excels in fitnah menfitnah
pouring the poison of hatred where love once stood.

O Iqbal!
Where is the ishq that used to drive you to divine ecstasy?
Where is the nur that illumines the heart and obliterates man’s egoism?
Where is the mahabbah and rahmah that forge the bonds of love and salam?
Where is the hidayah taht destroys insincerity, hypocrisy and greed?
Where is the ‘ilm that elevates the soul to its True Master?
Where is the taqwa that imbues thought and action with righteosness?
Where is the bal-i-jibrail that will deliver us from this earthly misery?…
Can the Khairu Ummatin ever emerge from robots, rubbles and bubbles?

O Iqbal!
Behind this veil of melancholy, I see an array of hope,
In the places of today’s Pharaoh, many Moses are being born,
Out of the gospel of Trinity into the glad of Tawhid,
Among the ruins of Cordoba, I met Sister Tamara,
a blend of the tulip of the Occident and the rose of the Orient.
Many more Tamaras are blossoming
in the wasteland of modernity and post-modernism,
lighting candles in the dungeons and hedonism.
Many more Bilals are growing up in Harlem
to proclaim the rise of Isa, son if Maryam.
From the minarets of New York, London and Paris,
He will preach the true meaning of “La ilaha illa’Llah, Muhammad Rasulu’Llah”.

Yes, O Iqbal, the sun will rise the West
As Musa (alaihi’s s-salam) rose in the palace of Firaun.

Muhammad Kamal Hassan
I.I.U.M. Gombak, 3rd July 2002.