Thursday, July 30, 2009

ISNA 2009

ISNA 2009 – Lawung – Trendy Islamic Clothing

Posted using ShareThis

Friday, July 17, 2009

My Sister- Must read story

*JazakhAllah Khair Hafeeza for posting this*

Asalamualaikum wa rahmatullahi wa barakathu

by Muhammad Alshareef

* Mohammad Alshareef translated the following story from the book "Azzaman Alqaadim" and gave it as his final speech at the MYNA East Zone conference. It is a very moving story which had the entire audience in tears. I hope that inshallah it moves you like it did me.

Her cheeks were worn and sunken, and her skin hugged her bones. That didn't stop her because you could never catch her not reciting Qur'an. She was always vigil in her personal prayer room that our father had set up for her. Bowing, prostrating, raising her hands in prayer, was the way she was from dawn to sunset and back again; boredom was for other people.

As for me, I craved nothing more than fashion magazines and novels. I treated myself to videos until the trips to the rental place became my trademark. It’s a saying that when something becomes habit, people tend to distinguish you by it. I was negligent in my responsibilities and my salah was characterized by laziness.

One night, after a long three hours of watching, I turned the video off. The adhan rose softly in the quiet night. I slipped peacefully into my blanket.

Her voice called me from her prayer room. "Yes? Would you like anything Noorah?" I asked.

With a sharp needle she popped my plans. "Don't sleep before you pray Fajr!"

Agghh! “There's still an hour before Fajr. That was only the first adhan,” I said.

With those loving pinches of hers, she called me closer. She was like that even before the fierce sickness shook her spirit and shut her in bed. "Hanan, can you come sit beside me."

I could never refuse any of her requests; you could touch the purity and sincerity in her. "Yes, Noorah?"

"Please sit here."

"Alright, I’m sitting. What's on your mind?"

With the sweetest mono voice she began reciting:

Every soul shall taste death and you will merely be repaid your earnings on the Day of Resurrection.

She stopped thoughtfully. Then she asked, "Do you believe in death?"

"Of course I do,” I replied.

"Do you believe that you shall be responsible for whatever you do, regardless of how small or large?"

"I do, but Allah is Forgiving and Merciful, and I’ve got a long life waiting for me."

"Stop it Hanan! Are you not afraid of death and its abruptness? Take a look at Hind. She was younger than you but she died in a car accident. Death is age-blind and your age could never be a measure of when you shall die."

The darkness of the room filled my skin with fear. "I'm scared of the dark and now you made me scared of death. How am I supposed to go to sleep now? Noorah, I thought you promised you'd go with us on vacation during the summer break."

Her voice broke and her heart quivered. "I might be going on a long trip this year Hanan, but somewhere else. All of our lives are in Allah’s hands and we all belong to Him."

My eyes welled and the tears slipped down both cheeks. I pondered my sisters grizzly sickness. The doctors had informed my father in private that there was not much hope Noorah was going to outlive the disease. She wasn't told, so I wondered who hinted to her. Or was it that she could sense the truth?

"What are you thinking about Hanan?" Her voice was sharp. "Do you think I am just saying this because I am sick? I hope not. In fact, I may live longer than people who are not sick. How long are you going to live Hanan? Perhaps twenty years? Maybe forty? Then what?" Through the dark she reached for my hand and squeezed gently. "There's no difference between us; we're all going to leave this world to live in Paradise or agonize in Hell. Listen to the words of Allah:

Anyone who is pushed away from the Fire and shown into Jannah will have triumphed.

I left my sister's room dazed, her words ringing in my ears: “May Allah guide you Hanan - don't forget your prayer.”

I heard pounding on my door at eight o'clock in the morning. I don't usually wake up at this time. There was crying and confusion. O Allah, what happened?

Noorah’s condition became critical after Fajr; they took her to the hospital immediately.

Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'oon.

There wasn't going to be any trips this summer. It was written that I would spend the summer at home.

It felt like an eternity had gone by when it was one o'clock in the afternoon. Mother phoned the hospital.

"Yes. You can come and see her now." Dad's voice had changed, and mother could sense something had gone deathly wrong. We left immediately.

Where was that avenue I used to travel and thought was so short? Why was it so very long now? Where was the cherished crowd and traffic that would give me a chance to gaze left and right? Everyone, just move out of our way!

Mother was shaking her head in her hands crying as she made du'a for her Noorah. We arrived at the hospital’s main entrance. One man was moaning, while another was involved in an accident. A third man’s eyes were iced. You couldn’t tell if he was dead or alive.

Noorah was in intensive care. We skipped stairs to her floor. The nurse approached us. "Let me take you to her."

As we walked down the aisles the nurse went on expressing how sweet of a girl Noorah was. She somewhat reassured Mother that Noorah’s condition had gotten better than what it was in the morning. "Sorry. No more than one visitor at a time,” the nurse said.

This was the intensive care unit. Past the flurry white robes, through the small window in the door, I caught my sister’s eyes. Mother was standing beside her. After about two minutes, mother came out unable to control her crying. "You may enter and say salaam to her on the condition that you do not speak too long," they told me. "Two minutes should be enough."

"How are you Noorah? You were fine last night sister, what happened?"

We held hands; she squeezed harmlessly. "Even now, alhamdulillah, I'm doing fine."

"Alhamdulillah...but...your hands are so cold."

I sat on her bedside and rested my fingers on her knee. She jerked it away. "Sorry, did I hurt you?"

"No, it is just that I remembered Allah's words.”

Waltafatul saaqu bil saaq (One leg will be wrapped to the other leg [in the death shroud]).

"Hanan pray for me. I may be meeting the first day of the Hereafter very soon. It’s a long journey and I haven't prepared enough good deeds in my suitcase."

A tear escaped my eye and ran down my cheek at her words. I cried and she joined me. The room blurred away and left us two sisters to cry together. Rivulets of tears splashed down on my sister’s palm, which I held with both hands. Dad was now becoming more worried about me. I've never cried like that before.

At home and upstairs in my room, I watched the sun pass away with a sorrowful day. Silence mingled in our corridors. One after another, my cousins came in my room. The visitors were many and all the voices from downstairs stirred together. Only one thing was clear at that point – Noorah had died!

I stopped distinguishing who came and who went. I couldn't remember what they said. O Allah, where was I? What was going on? I couldn't even cry anymore.

Later that week they told me what had happened. Dad had taken my hand to say goodbye to my sister for the last time. I had kissed Noorah's head.

I remember only one thing while seeing her spread on that bed – the bed that she was going to die on. I remembered the verse she recited:

One leg will be wrapped to the other leg (in the death shroud).

And I knew too well the truth of the next verse:

The drive on that day will be to your Lord (Allah)!

I tiptoed into her prayer room that night. Staring at the quiet dressers and silenced mirrors, I treasured the person that had shared my mother's stomach with me. Noorah was my twin sister.

I remembered who I had swapped sorrows with, who comforted my rainy days. I remembered who prayed for my guidance and who spent so many tears for many long nights telling me about death and accountability. May Allah save us all.

Tonight is Noorah's first night that she shall spend in her tomb. O Allah, have mercy on her and illumine her grave. This was her Qur'an and her prayer mat. And this was the spring, rose-colored dress that she told me she would hide until she got married; the dress she wanted to keep just for her husband.

I remembered my sister and cried over all the days that I had lost. I prayed to Allah to have mercy on me, accept me and forgive me. I prayed to Allah to keep her firm in her grave as she always liked to mention in her supplications.

At that moment, I stopped. I asked myself what if it was I who had died. Where would I be moving on to? Fear pressed me and the tears began all over again.

“Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar…” The first adhan rose softly from the masjid. It sounded so beautiful this time. I felt calm and relaxed as I repeated the mu’adhin’s call. I wrapped the shawl around my shoulders and stood to pray Fajr. I prayed as if it was my last prayer, a farewell prayer, just like Noorah had done yesterday. It had been her last Fajr.

Now, and in sha Allah for the rest of my life, if I awake in the morning I do not count on being alive by evening, and in the evening I do not count on being alive by morning. We are all going on Noorah's journey. What have we prepared for it?

*Muhammad Alshareef's final speech at the 1999 MYNA East Zone Conference.

jazakillah sada qamar noor for finding this =]

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Are We Truly Believers?

By British Political Prisoner Babar Ahmad

“So do not weaken and do not grieve, for you will indeed be superior if you are truly believers.”

[Al-Quran 3:139]

This verse was revealed to the Messenger (SAS) by Allah The Almighty from above the Seven Heavens, soon after the Muslims suffered a defeat in the Battle of Uhud and returned to Al-Madinah dejected and downtrodden. It was revealed as an encouragement to the believers after a victory that was in their grasp, was snatched away from them and turned into a defeat. And why should the Companions (RA) not have felt devastated at this defeat? Seventy of the best human beings on Earth at the time were killed and countless others were injured. Even the Messenger (SAS) himself was seriously wounded until blood flowed from his face and he said in great anguish whilst wiping the blood from his noble cheeks: “Allah’s Wrath is Great upon the people who besmeared His Messenger’s face with blood.”

However, this defeat was only a temporary setback so that the believers could reflect upon the reasons for the defeat, described in successive verses of Surah Ale-Imran. The mistakes and sins of a few believers had deprived the whole army of victory.

When Umar bin Al-Khattab (RA) despatched the army of Saad bin Abi Waqqas (RA) to the Battle of Al-Qadisiyyah, he advised him: “Fear your sins more than you fear the enemy as your sins are more dangerous to you than your enemy. We Muslims are only victorious over our enemy because their sins outnumber ours, not for any other reason. If our sins were equal to those of our enemy, then they would defeat us due to their superior numbers and resources.”

And so Saad (RA) proceeded to fight the Persians and, sticking to the advice of his leader, he imprisoned the alcoholic Abu Mahjan Ath-Thaqafi lest his presence in the army delays the victory. Until, Abu Mahjan lamented in his shackles and composed verses of poetry that touched the wife of Saad (RA) to temporarily release him so that he could participate in the battle with his brothers. Abu Mahjan thus went out riding the horse of Saad (RA) (as Saad (RA) was bedridden with fever) and performed unmatched feats of valour before returning to his cell in the evening and wearing his shackles back by himself. This continued for three days until, when Saad (RA) found out about the heroics of Abu Mahjan, he untied his shackles with the words: “By Allah! I will never imprison you again for drinking alcohol!” Upon this, Abu Mahjan replied, “By Allah! I will never again touch alcohol after this day!” The army was victorious and Saad (RA) appointed the ascetic Companion Salman Al-Farsi (RA) as the new ruler of Persia, who lived on a meagre salary of one dirham per day.

Victory and defeat, gains and losses, and successes and setbacks are not decided by money, resources, numbers or skills. Rather, they are decided by the balance of obedience and disobedience of Allah The Exalted. The more we obey Allah, both individually and collectively, the more we hasten His Victory. The more we disobey Allah, the more we delay the arrival of His Victory. One Muslim’s sins can delay the victory for everyone. It is very easy to blame Bush and Blair, the ‘West’, the ‘kuffar’ or simply ‘them’ for all our woes and worries. But it is not so easy to look in the mirror and point the finger at ourselves.

Look at us and our pathetic state. We have abandoned Salah or we delay it or rush through it. We are too stingy to give Zakah, let alone optional charity. We prefer to go on holiday than to go for the obligatory Hajj. We drink alcohol, we use and supply drugs (Muslims are amongst the biggest suppliers of drugs in the world today), we cohabit outside wedlock, we steal, we cheat. We eat haram, earn haram and sell haram. We beat our wives and force our daughters into marriages then use Islam to justify it. We are quick to spend on fashion and luxuries but slow to spend on orphans and the needy. We fail to utter a single word, let alone raise a finger, when we see our fellow Muslims imprisoned , tortured, house-arrested, extradited or slain for fear of being ‘linked’ to them. We waste our lives watching television and playing computer games then complain that we don’t have enough time to become better Muslims. We are too addicted to music to find time to listen to or memorise the Quran. We are too busy in fun and games to fulfil our responsibilities as vicegerents on Allah’s Earth. And after all this (and more), we have the audacity to wonder why Allah’s Victory has not yet arrived. With our paltry state, we should more likely expect Allah’s Wrath and Punishment rather than His Victory.

Every sin we commit delays the arrival of Allah’s Victory. Every Salah we delay extends the incarceration of a captive at Guantanamo Bay. Every drug we take allows another Quran to be flushed down the toilet. Every hour we waste watching TV allows another Muslim to be kidnapped and extradited into the hands of savage beasts. Every time we gaze at something forbidden, we place an obstacle in the path of Allah’s Victory. A sin is not a ‘private matter between me and Allah’ but one sin can make the difference between victory and defeat. Every sin we commit is one more reason why Allah should not grant us relief, safety and victory.

Allah has made us a Promise in the aforementioned verse: “So do not weaken and do not grieve, for you will indeed be superior if you are truly believers.” He promises us relief, assistance, superiority and victory on the condition that we are true believers. If we suffer defeats today then it does not mean that Allah’s Promise is false. Instead, the question we must ask ourselves is: are we truly believers?