Saturday, August 15, 2009

Fajr...and the thin line between do and do not.

The worst feeling in the world is not of living through the worst day of your life, it comes the day after, at that precise moment when you wake up and remember it all. Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life...

It is 3am, my phone adhan has gone off. I fumble to switch it off. The feeling of panic and desolation sets in and I sit in the dark for a bit, trying to pick up the pieces of my self. I desperately trying to glue it together before that feeling of loss, desolation and utter meaningless existence sets in. That feeling that everything will come to an end, like sand on the beach which will slip through your fingers. There are those who are gone, you wonder what became of them; there are those who are with you still, and you wonder how long it will be before they too set away. Finally you are left surrounded by strangers. Perhaps life is like this, it will watch you slowly lose everything, until nothing matters to you anymore and then you too can slowly fade away. I've woken up to this feeling at every fajr I can remember...

The sufi's talk about obliterating yourself into the love of Allah. I agree with them, everything in this spinning world is attached with sorrow and soaked in the dye of sadness. To love what can hurt you as well, to want only for yourself what can never be yours alone - such folly! All for what? Some fleeting moments of happiness which must by nature end for they had a beginning. So utterly pointless. Life is suffering?!

No, because with hardship comes ease, with hardship comes ease. I could lay down again, lose myself again, my power to get up does not respond, it asks me if I have a will to do so first. My will tells me it is ready. I ask it what right it has to drive me to get up, and I find my will rooted in my knowledge..How can I have knowledge of anything? It is because I'm alive. I'm still alive.

Calmly, I get up in the dark and go to wash my face, my arms and my feet. Ever since I heard that the Prophet used to leave the water dripping from his body so that his sins would dry with it, I've done the same. I feel good doing that. Rumi once said he is but dust on the path to this wonderful man. As I stand facing eternity as he and countless others have, I hope that the water which drips down my face will wash away not only my sins but my sorrows too...

9 comments:

Arima said...

greatly written but so melancholy...rabina yisahilak

Lirun said...

i hope your not drip drying in london in the winter.. what works well in the middle east is a recipe for arthritis elsewhere..

KJ said...

Thank you for sharing this Maysaloon. Indeed, fajr prayer, unlike others, has its certain charm. But not all of those who wake up to pray it feel it. I myself, unfortunately, am sleepy during prayer.

Though I recall a certain night where I woke up before the prayer in a considerable amount of time. I performed the ablution and sat in the darkness waiting for the prayer time. I slept during the athan, and it was then that I felt the charm of fajr - staying up for something more divine than could be said with words.

Ammar said...

Interesting post, and I thank my friend KJ for pointing it out for me, as I've often had similar states of mind, the thin line between light and darkness at dawn is probably one of the most intriguing philosophical excursions, the clearest time for the shallow pool called one's mind to reflect the stars a million light years away, hence, its prayers value.

Maysaloon said...

Arima,
Thank you for the kind words...

Maysaloon said...

KJ,
I suffer from the same ailment, a hurried two ruk'a's before heading back to work, but the times when my will is steely, it is wonderful...and worth it.

Maysaloon said...

Ammar,
Welcome and thank you for your comments..We forget that Salah comes from Sila (connection) and that this is what Salah is, a connection with something far greater from us. Understanding it for what it is rather than a dry obilgation applied with little understanding. Truly, it is not eyes that are blinded but the hearts of people...

Welcome to Maysaloon :) and Ramadan Mubarak to you all...

qunfuz said...

Allah yubarak fik, Waseem

beautiful piece

pamela said...

Inshalla I will remember this writing when i pray Fajr.
You put that "feeling" in words for me , I,ve felt it more and more recently , its not exactly sadness or panic , but a combination of many things , perhaps a sign of fear of whats coming ?