I presume Abah will not agree. It’s not going to be fair that I get to go twice. Plus the financial allocation only allows for England and France. Perhaps it would hurt Abah as I know he’d want the whole family to be together, go on a trip together – but I am willing to swap France for another umrah.
Somebody please understand – that I am badly in need of help. And one of the means of help is being in al-Haram. With my eyes set on the Kaabah. With my body circling the Kaabah, nourished from the Zamzam. With my mind only thinking about Him, my heart resigned to only Him.
Three and a half years ago, when I was ill and mum was exhausted from the many unsuccessful attempts to get me healed, she brought me there. That was her last resort, her last hope. I came back 90% cured.
Three and a half years later, I am emotionally exhausted, failing, tumbling down, unsuccessful in my efforts to be normal and sane, and I want to pray at the Haramain. Last resort.
Dear……. whoever reads this. For I have no specific audience.
I am nobody significant. Not a prominent person in the society. Not even known in the campus. I am but a nameless figure walking to and fro the Kulliyyah of Laws, passing by the masjid, the cafeteria, stationery shop, ATM machine, et cetera without a single soul giving a care. Nobody whispers behind me, as they stand in the line, that “Hey, you know that girl? That’s Aika. She’s blablabla….”
Not that I am searching for fame.
I fancy that without me knowing it, while I’m stepping on the dried leaves, walking at the sidewalk with books in hand, there are… heavenly creatures… who whisper, “Fellow angels, this is Ai Kautsar. She is a faithful servant of Allah, let us make du’a for her, may her rewards be accepted by Allah Almighty and may He deem fit for her to be placed in Jannah in shaa Allah.”
That kind of fame, yes I so do seek.
The thing is, right now I guess the angels don’t recognize me. Perhaps the devils do instead? Who am I, just a lowly servant, a miserable human, a person who sins and keeps on sinning without any strength to leave.
Be it that I am memorizing the Book of Allah – still, for the life of me I am unable to change.
I hit rock bottom.
Even after racking my brain trying to find solutions to fight my own self, I’m still failing.
Perhaps the only sins I haven’t done are committing zina, stealing (stealing mum’s money before I hit puberty doesn’t apply), eating pork. consuming intoxicants, drugs, apostasy, not fasting in Ramadhan, being unjust in business and running away from battlefields. Leaving prayers? Oh, I still have thousands to qadha’. Disrespectful towards parents? I remember a few pelempangs on my cheeks to prove that. Purposely showing my aurah? I admit that. Self-hurt? Of course. Immorality? Oh, you bet. Dishonesty? Haha, check. Lies? Oh, double check. Backbite, talking ill about others? Checkety-check. Not observing ikhtilat with the opposite gender? Checkeeroonie. Atuk can testify to that (it is a wonder how can he love this not-normal not-sane not-okay person). Boss, yeah. Coworkers, yeah. UiTM friends, yeah. Cousins, yeah.
Name one thing I haven’t done.
Oh wait. What about try to kill yourself?
Major have done.
Guess how terrible I am. Super terrible. Guess how my parents would decapitate me for exposing myself like this? I don’t care. I am not ashamed. If my struggles could make somebody appreciate his life, or if my struggle to change could give some motivation to anyone who’s going crazy leaving his old lifestyle, that’s enough reasons to write. I remember reading a few blogs alike mine, and it’s comforting… somehow… to know that I’m not alone.
Anyway. I think someone said this to me, once. “Alah other people also do like that maa. We all talk bad of others. We all fight with our parents at some point of time. Or lie. White lies. Everybody does that, they’re not big issues.”
Haha okay. Then we’re all gonna be doomed together, aite?
To you, it’s not big. To me, otherwise. I can’t keep on living like this. Spewing lies like Oscar winners. Shoving fingers down the throat, self hurting when things go wrong. Forever depressed. List goes on.
I can’t keep on being zalim to myself. The extents I do to be okay goes as extreme as signing up a three-year no-backing-out tahfiz course and setting appointment with a shrink.
Yet I am still like this.
Prayer, yes, prayer. Du’a. It’s what we Muslims have that others don’t. Verily I have prayed. Maybe not enough. Maybe not as much. Maybe not as sincere.
It’s around this time, praying, that I make du’a in my sujud. Sometimes the du’as are comprehensible in the form of words. Sometimes the rage and despair and total confusion takes place and I fail to make out coherent thoughts, only hoping for Allah to accept the concoction of feelings inside me, those I don’t even know how to describe.
As of tonight….
Make me faithful to only You.
Guide me to Your rightful path.
Give me strength to memorize the Book, the verses You have revealed, the words which trembled the hearts of the Believers and made them follow only Your path.
Give me strength to follow Your way totally, wholeheartedly, without doubt, without turning back.
O muqallibal qulub, o Turner of hearts, tsabbit qalbi ‘ala deenik – turn my heart into Your religion.
Make the heartaches stop.
Make the emotional pain stop.
Stop me from being zalim to myself.
Make the physical pain stop.
Heal the migraine.
Heal the adhesion colic.
Heal the pain caused by evil doings of man and shaitan.
Heal whatever it is I don’t understand with my uterus that the doctors say will or already does affect my fertility, because in the near future I want to conceive my children in my womb – my rahim – a place where your Raheem is abundant.
Heal me, please.
If it’s good for my religion, if it’s good for my akhlaq and my sanity – if having him as a halal company would make me stronger in deen, make me stronger to heal – then please, God, please make my marriage come early.
Make me strong to leave he who is not mine. And make me strong to live life. Then bless me with a marriage full of barakah afterwards because of that sacrifice.
Give guidance to my family.
To my brother, may he find his way in life, serving only you.
To my mother, may she be in excellent health and persevere in doing da’wah to her own family.
To my father….. may his character be as strong, soft and righteous like the Prophet s.a.w and the Companions.
To my deceased family members…. may they be with the ‘aliyyins.
May I be in your protection always.
May I be enriched in knowledge and rizq – abundantly, as my name, Kautsar.
May I be afraid of only You.
May I meet death remembering only You.
May every breathe and every heartbeat be only for you.