Brave Muslim Children

Last week, my four-year-old daughter was operated for tonsillitis and adenoids. I had been putting off this surgery with oral medicine for the last six-months or so because I felt that I did not have the strength to cope with the psychological pressure of having my four-year-old in an operation theatre. However, one fine day, I got a call from my child’s school which finally made me understand that I could no longer put off what I had been putting off for months. ‘This is it’.

The morning of the operation was poignant for my husband and me. We were waiting outside the operation theatre to hand her over to the surgeons while she played in our arms. All despondent episodes from other people’s lives were chirping at my head; episodes of unexpected deaths, deaths during operation and deaths in post-operative care.

When they finally summoned us, I questioned my husband, ‘You or I?’ meaning who will go into the operation theatre with her till she dozes off with the anesthesia. My husband gestured for me. I felt peace. As the nurse beckoned me, I started towards the inner door of the operation theatre, only to realize that the nurse was taking my daughter out of my arms.

‘What?’ I looked quizzically at her.

She smiled to assure me. My daughter was still holding on to me.

‘Won’t I go in with her?’ I asked.

‘No,’ she smiled again.

‘… but she won’t stay without me … let me stay with her until she becomes unconscious … ?’ I pleaded.

But she allowed me not, and expertly took my daughter out of my arms.

Dumbfounded, I mumbled something to my daughter about bringing something favorite of hers right away.

Tersely, I sat outside the operation theatre.

Fifteen minutes after the nurse had taken in my daughter, a doctor came out and apparently looked around for me. I rushed to her.

'Are you the mother?’ she asked.

 ‘Yes,’ I said.

 ‘Is your daughter normal?’ she inquired.

 ‘Huh?’ I was stupefied. ‘Yes of course she is normal. Why? Something wrong?’

 ‘Well,’ she stated, ‘its just that she has been sitting so quietly and pliantly in there for the last fifteen minutes that we thought maybe something is wrong with her … normally children throw a tantrum’.

In a piercing moment, I felt so proud of my daughter. She had been so brave. After the number of pre-operation visits to the doctor, she had understood that this was the hospital and these are the doctors and that she is brought here for a purpose.

My poor darling … she is basically of a shy nature; shouting and hooting and running mad when the family is around but going into a shell when a stranger is around. She hides behind her father or me or her nanny if a stranger looks at her. She would never be alone with a stranger. Yet she managed. She managed being alone inside the operation theatre, conscious and with total strangers around her, for a full fifteen minutes and more.

She understood the situation and braved up to it.

Children are brave. It is we who underestimate them. It is we who do not let them grow up. Which is why it is about time that we stopped fooling our children by making them live in oblivion. It is time we stopped cheating our children by making them live in a religious seclusion, close enough to monasticism.

We teach them, ‘Be a good Muslim and forget about what is happening around you’. How can a good Muslim forget about what is happening around him? We have a history where our heroes were the saviors of not just their own nation but the saviors for the weak and oppressed of other nations as well!

It is about time we told our children about who we are and what is happening to us. It is about time we told our children of our past and of our future. It is about time we shared with them the news of their siblings in Palestine, Syria, Burma, Iraq, Afghanistan and elsewhere. Let them know that Superman, Spiderman and Batman are actually nobodies. Let them see the world, as it really is. And they can. If they can see blood spilling in Tom & Jerry, horrendous fights between ugly characters and bursting bodies in video games, surely they can see a little real blood out of their own windows?

Raise brave children. Teach your children about Faith, worship and ethics and the foremost of them is not turning a blind eye when someone is in trouble. Coming back in a full circle, it is that Faith, that we initially teach our children, is what will protect our children when they try to protect others.

“

They came first for the Communists, and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Communist.

Then they came for the trade unionists, and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Jew.

And then ... they came for me ... and by that time there was no one left to speak up…

”

[Martin Niemoller, German Anti-War Activist]

Heartbroken Over Imran Khan

No, I am not Zoya Ali. I am not any of those crazy girls who have been standing all dolled up at Imran Khan’s dharnas hoping to catch Imran Khan’s attention, or perhaps the media’s? I am not even a girl from the 80’s who has seen the prime youth of Imran Khan and held a secret crush for him into this age. Nah, none of that. I am simply a politically conscious citizen of Pakistan who does not shrug her shoulders at the mention of politics and say ‘I couldn’t care less’. No, but I care a lot, because, ‘politics’ although a maligned and murky water right now, is a pond right outside my door step which moisturizes the wind coming into my windows and channels the water pipes into my house. If I say that I am indifferent to politics, I am saying that I am indifferent to what is happening to me.

I became a PTI supporter for the simple reason that I saw in Imran Khan a visionary, potential and daring leader. It was a mathematical choice, not an emotional choice, or an inherited choice like choosing the PPP, nor a self-interest choice like choosing the PML-N. Most of PTI supporters are either ex-PPP voters or ex-PML-N voters, like myself. We being ex-voters of someone else proves our cry of desire for ‘Change’. When we ask for change, we first of all change what is within us, and that includes our voting direction.

“The fact is that Allah never changes the condition of a people until they intend to change it themselves ...” [The Holy Quran, Surah Ar-Ra’ad, Excerpt from Verse 11]

The will and potential to change is the most powerful and dangerous potential within a human being. It means that if once upon a time I was strong enough to quit voting for PML-N, today, I would be having the strength to quit voting for PTI as well.

The news of Imran – Reham divorce has been nothing short of a shock of a lifetime. How could Imran Khan do this? There are many conspiracy theories running around his divorce. So is Imran Khan, 63-year-old, so naïve that he could not figure out that he was marrying an agent planted by the West who would ultimately poison him? Or is Imran Khan, a leader, so shaky that he got overpowered by the political resistance against Reham Khan from within his own political party, possibly the female cluster? Or is Imran Khan, a man, so typically chauvinistic and insecure that he could not tolerate the spread of the wings of his wife, Reham Khan?

In the past, voting was a kind of mundane activity. With Imran Khan, it became a passion, a rage, an elation. The passion of Imran Khan for a change and rise as a nation infused within us a revolution. But not blindness. We will not turn a blind eye to the blunders of our leader like the N-leaguers and PPPians do. We stand for truth and change. We will follow the Sunnah of the Muslim pioneers where a common man had the guts to question Syedna Umar RA as to why he was wearing two chaddars instead of one as everybody else had gotten in fairness? And a common woman had the guts to object to the opinion-formation of the same intimidating Khalifah, who was considering to limit the amount of dowry a man gifts to his bride at the time of marriage. This questioning and possible objection is not disrespect, nor lack of loyalty, but commitment to ethics and principles of leadership and followership.

It has been three days since the fallow news of Imran-Reham divorce. And my heart is still in sorrow. As I said, supporting Imran Khan was not a mundane activity, but a passion, a joy … I think, my first political love. And as it goes, first loves are hard to forget. Ever since the divorce, I have been waking up in the morning with a heavy heart, a mournful heart, a betrayed heart. My heart skips a beat when I see the PTI flag somewhere. I feel melancholies when fragments of his taranas play themsleves in my ears…

I want to know what happened.

In the old Pakistan, if a man beats up his wife and the neighbors hear the commotion of it, they hush up each other saying ‘It is their personal matter…’ In Naya Pakistan, it does not happen so. We voted for you. We expect the Naya Pakistan from you as far as you are concerned. Neither you nor Reham have given any public statement as to the reasons of this divorce. So it is a dilemma for us. Should we quit supporting you or continue? Women, sensitive women, sensitive to the respect and rights of women shall not be able to continue supporting you. While, the opportunist, the jealous and the selfish women would not care less. I have seen various reactions by women and men regarding this divorce on media. Some are blaming Imran Khan. Some are blaming Reham Khan. But the worst reaction is that of indifference. As if they are dead people.

Imran Khan, you must tell us why you divorced Reham Khan. I greatly respect the fact that you have never spoken ill of Jemima even after your divorce with her, like a true gentleman, and I am not asking you to do so with Reham. However, you need to state fair facts in this precarious situation. And so should Reham Khan tell. And that information will act as the third umpire for us in this messy match !

Junaid Jamshed & Woman's Honor

Junaid Bhai, I do not know why all of a sudden you have gotten jinxed with controversial statements, and that too, regarding women. You have come to religion from where you came from, hence we expected something different from you. We expected you to understand and promote religion with an intelligent approach, not the hand-me-down religion approach. When you make a religious statement and then compliment it with the statement ‘Hamarae baron nae hamae isi tarhan sikhaya hae…’ it pretty much takes the air out of the balloon. If Junaid Jamshed has to convey religion to us with the parrot approach, why are we listening to Junaid Jamshed? Why not just play the pre-recording?

Junaid Bhai, I simply do not agree with you that Allah Almighty omitted the mention of woman’s name in the Holy Quran. What is Surah Maryam about? Allah Almighty could have named it Surah Umme Isa. But that did not happen. It is directly and boldly, Surah Maryam. Pronouncing a woman’s name is not dishonor to her. During the Prophetic times, how were the Prophet’s wives and daughters and other Muslim women pronounced? Directly by their names! Anyone who reads the treasury of Hadith can see that it continuously narrates, ‘Narrated Ayesha RA … ’ for about twenty-five thousand Ahadith, which composes about one-third of the entire Hadith treasury. They could have said, ‘Narrated Binte Abu Bakr RA … ’. Or they could have said, ‘Narrated Zoja’e Muhammed Pbuh … ’. But no! It is simple and straightforward ‘Narrated Ayesha RA … ’. Some may say, that is because of her status as Mother of the Believers. Well, if Mothers of the Believers are absolved of veiling their names, why were they not absolved of veiling their persons? [33:53,55,59]

I even defy the ideology that today a woman is pronounced as Mrs. So-and-So, that is, by her husband’s name, as an honor. Yes, in some cases, it is a great honor to be identified in relation to somebody. For example, she is his mother, she is his wife, she is his sister, she is his daughter. But excuse me! Every man is not that great, that to be associated to him and to be introduced in his name should be a glorifying honor. In some cases, it could be a disgrace. And in most cases, the case is neutral. It is just a matter of recognition by the husband’s name. Why? Does not a woman have her own face and person? Why should she be recognized by her husband’s name? On second thoughts, the honor of being related to somebody honorable could be with respect to a female too! Just a few seconds and I shall give proof.

During the Prophetic times, all Muslim women were seconded by their father’s names, not husband’s names. Ever! It is a non-Muslim tradition to change and take on the husband’s name after marriage. Ain’t that good news for all feminists? Yes, the Muslim culture has the tradition of taking on titles, called kunyah, and becoming renown by it. For example, Umme Salmah, Umme Aiman, Umme Kulsoom, and so on. But then the Muslim men also used to take on kunyahs. For example, Abu Bakr, Abu Musa, Abu Darda and the greatest example is that of the Prophet Muhammed Pbuh himself, having the kunyah, Abu Qasim. In case of women, some say, it is to veil the woman’s personal name. Well then, what is it for in case of men?

The mainstream school-of-thought followed in Pakistan is the classical Deoband. Among the four Imams of the Islam, the Deoband of Pakistan follow Imam Abu Hanifa. Hanifa? Do you know who Hanifa is? Hanifa was the very intelligent daughter of Imam Abu Hanifa. One fine day, she smartly answered an intellectual question posed by her father. Hanifa answered straight, winning the heart of her father and winning the honor of becoming the kunyah of her scholarly father, whose real name was Noman bin Thabit. Hence, the kunyah, Abu Hanifah. Did Imam Abu Hanifah not know that he was disrespecting his daughter by posting her name publically as his kunyah, repeated by countless men, centuries after centuries? Poof! Proof!

Ah! But the Woman is like a diamond and must be shielded and protected and prized. I agree with you on that Junaid Bhai. For it is the description of women of Jannah in the Holy Quran. There is no doubt women are precious like diamonds, for Allah’s best creation is the Human and the Woman is the finer of the two genders. Allah Almighty chose women to give birth to Humans and once again chose women to nurture and raise the Humans, the best of His Creation. What an honor! However, the crash point of this diamond-theory concept comes when the religious folks label the women as diamonds when they want to justify keeping her under covers and locked up as their personal slave. A Muslim man forgets that his wife is a diamond when he humiliates her in front of the family to please a few among the family. The Muslim man forgets that his wife is a diamond when he slaps her and bruises her and drags her on the floor in the face of an argument. The Muslim man forgets that his wife is a diamond and he must let her shine and shimmer with all her talents and aspirations of life. But no, she is used and abused to fulfil the life vision of the Man only. What she wants from life does not matter.

I am not saying that the non-religious folks do not do this. They do it too, but they do not appear as hypocrites because neither do they claim to honor her nor do they honor her, except a few. But the religious folks claim to honor her and do just the opposite in the general sphere of behavior. They malign not just themselves but the religion they host, by claiming that the woman is like a diamond but keeping her like a lump of coal.

There is no doubt that Islam came as a savior to Woman. I happen to be a ‘practicing’ Muslim and am absolutely thrilled by the perks and fringe benefits I get because of being a Woman. But just like Islam came to erase a heap of ignorant practices like Shirk, Bidah, Social Evils and so on, yet we indulge in them most of the time, similarly, as a nation we boast respect of Woman by Islam but we violate it most of the time. I have seen religious folks speaking on and off TV about respect of woman in Islam. The longer they stretch the word ‘lot of respect’ for Woman in Islam, the greater I suspect them for not really respecting Woman. I suspect so, because I live in the real world, not on TV, and I see what goes on in reality in Muslim homes, in majority. While once upon a time I saw a bearded man with his wife and children at Hush Puppies, the shoe shop. No, no, you are wrong and sorry to disappoint you, but the bearded man was not beating his wife at the shoe shop with a lot of shoes. Let me paint the picture a bit clearer. The Muslim man had a long beard, an Amamah on his head and he was also wearing a long Juba. His wife was covered head to toe in black. They had a handful of children. Now, the wife was sitting on the shop couch like royalty. The husband was holding the baby and also going round the shop and bringing his wife different variety of shoes. The wife was saying yes and no to various shoe pairs. After she had selected a couple of pairs, her husband affectionately touched her at the head and asked her if she wanted anything else. I was watching this entire scene, shocked and rooted to the ground. I had never seen a Muslim man behave so kindly, so honorably and so adoringly to his wife. And that too in public! Most men do not even enter the shop. And if they do, they sit wide in their typical arrogant, macho posture. A rare species of men hold the baby in public and the public uses very bad words for men who walk around holding babies while the Woman shops. While it is absolutely right and logical for the Man to hold the baby especially outside the house, because by your claim, I am a diamond and hence should be covered. When I hold the baby, the baby fists my niqaab, pulls at my chaddar and spoils my Hijab. Yes, I actually observe the complete Hijab, the three-piece set of the abaya, the chaddar and the niqaab. So I am not speaking upon the diamond-theory because I do not believe in Hijab. I wholly believe in it but I despise the hypocrisy attached to it in practice. I am diamond when you want to justify covering me and keeping me locked up. Otherwise, I am a dusting cloth. Hah!

So when I go out, I never hold the baby when my husband is with me. My husband holds the baby, to honor my Hijab and to offload me from heavy load work. Heavy load work is the man’s job, to honor his muscles. Wink! Thank you very much and Jazak Allah.

You know what, sometimes I think it is not really their fault. Perhaps they do not understand the meaning of the word ‘respect’. They say, we respect Woman, and yet they do not … Oh my God! I get it. They respect the Woman just like they respect the Quran. We as a society, become an angry mob if somebody ‘disrespects’ the Quran. And what do we do with the Quran ourselves? We kiss it and close it and keep it on the highest possible shelf of the house. It lies there forgotten. It becomes dusty. It remains alone and lonely, through the happy moments of the home folks. The man also has a relationship with the woman. That is the only time the Woman gets the Man’s full attention. Otherwise, the Man is busy. He has his job, his friends and his family. And the Woman is bundled away, forgotten, amidst cooking, cleaning, laundry and in general being the base camp of the Man’s whims of life. She is multipurpose. She can also be used as a punching bag when the man is stressed out. As the Quran is read in rainy days only.

Junaid Bhai, thank you for considering us diamonds, so please let us continue to shine and not throw dust on us. I missed commenting when you commented on Mother Ayesha RA. Even at that time, your point was that women, no matter who they are, are never satisfied with who you are, how well you treat them and what you give them. Junaid Bhai … that is human nature, not the ‘women’s’ nature. Since women happen to be humans as well, that is why they share this trait with men. And those humans who possess this trait, exhibit it. It is my common experience in religious circles, except a few, that they continuously speak of the women’s ‘respect’ and continuously disrespect women in further discussion. They basically and involuntarily speak what their hearts believe and not what Islam believes. I particularly find this trait of Dawah in the sub-continent. The subcontinent men, except a few, have not to this day, gotten out of their superiority complex of the pre-Islamic gender caste system. Junaid Bhai, I expect you to recognize this streak and overcome it as you have overcome other obstacles of your new, enlightened life.

Driving My Son to Jannah

Dr. Tanveer Ahmad is a consultant pediatrician doctor at Integrated Health Services (IHS), Islamabad. He has been my children’s doctor ever since they were born. He is a very kind doctor. He checks children very carefully, sensitively and at great length. He avoids giving medicine as far as he can, recommending more of natural herbs and preventive measures, although he is in the Health Industry. This means that his professional ethics are stronger than the business benefit of the industry that he belongs to. It does not mean that he is paranoid to medicines, for he has twice admitted my little daughter to the hospital and given her injections the size suitable for cows. His avoidance to give severe and lengthy prescriptions to children in fact indicates that he is sensitive to the fragility of children to hard chemicals. After Allah Almighty, we trust our children with Dr. Tanveer, so much so that when our children fall ill, we try to stretch and bear out with the illness until we can get an appointment with him specifically. Many a times he has waived off the doctor’s fee, when the visit is a simple pop-in reports check or when the case becomes a referral case. He is a far cry from what we call in our local dialect, a chor doctor. He is a very patient doctor, listening attentively to the blabbering of us parents about our children. He is sensitive to the parents as well, gently pointing out our mistakes in handling our children’s wellbeing and then giving us the encouragement and confidence to do better. He is very amiable, joking sometimes and always smiling a bright smile, adding color to an already colorful children’s hospital.

January 2015: Dr. Tanveer’s five-year-old son, Muhammad Ahmad, died.  

It was a shock.

Many weeks have passed but I feel that I am still in shock. I felt like weeping when I heard the news. Many weeks have passed and I still feel like weeping.

How could his son die? Why did he die? What was Allah’s Wisdom in it? Why did the son of a doctor die who takes care of other people’s children, and does it so well? Dr. Tanveer had given life to so many children; for to cure a child is to prevent him from death, and to prevent a child from death is to give him life. How will Dr. Tanveer bear the loss of his own son? These ‘whys’ and ‘whats’ and ‘hows’ rocketed my mind when I heard the news.

Dr. Tanveer’s son was the only son, along with three sisters. He was a heart patient with a ‘hole’ in his heart. He was at the tender age of only five when he died. I have never met him, but he seems so dear to me. I do not know what he looked like but I can exactly imagine his face expressions, perhaps because my own children are about the same age. Oh my God! What will his mother do? How will she pick up his toys? Where will she put away his clothes? What will she do with his small school books? How did she look at her dead child’s face? What will she do when she wants to kiss that small, cute face a few days from now?

Compassion played havoc with my imagination. Oh the day he was born. Oh the day he first smiled. Oh the day he first crawled. Oh the day he took his first steps. Oh the day he took his last breath. Oh the first time I noticed something was wrong with my child. Oh the first time the doctor told me that there was something wrong with my child’s heart. Oh the moment the doctor recommended a heart surgery for my little angel. I chose the best doctor. I chose the best hospital. I pulled out all the money that I could. Lo I would have not gone for the operation. Would my child have been alive today? Did I take the wrong decision, or was it Destiny? Oh the day we woke up for the operation. Oh the moment I held my child’s hand and made him sit in the car. He turned to me with his innocent face and asked me, ‘Baba, will I be okay after the operation?’ I smiled at him and assured him that he will be perfectly fine and we will play again. I said so to him, while my own heart was in a tumult. As we reached the hospital, I parked the car, got down from my side, opened the car door for him and held out my hand for Ahmad. Little did I know, that I had just given him a ride to his death.

Can any parent do that?

But, we are all doing it every day, unknowingly, knowingly or half-knowingly!

Death, is a formidable phenomena for all of us, and we do not think about it. We do not want to think about it. The reason is that we are a little short of imagination. For the reality is that Death is not the end of Life but just a Gateway; from this World into the Next World. In fact, it is the beginning of the Eternal Life.

But the critical point is that it is a gateway which opens up to not one but to two destinations; Heaven or Hell.

The food we eat, the clothes we wear, the words we speak, the profession we profess, the thoughts we think, the deeds we do, the activities we choose … all add up to a numerical address that will be found either in Heaven or Hell. Have you ever rolled down your car window and asked somebody ‘Where is H.100, St. 50?’ And they replied, ‘No, it is not in this sector, but it is in the other sector’. Similarly, the Angels will tell us in which ‘sector’ is our Destiny, based on our deeds of this World.

These are fast times, and each one of us is driving fast on the road of Life, turning right, turning left, going ahead, reversing, accelerating…

Do we ever realize that we are racing towards Death? Of course we are! All of us are racing towards Death…

From the moment that we choose a life partner, to when we make a family, to when we name our child, to when we choose a school for our child and all along when we role model for our child, we are driving ourselves and our children to Heaven or Hell. For the drive will continue, it is not in our hands to stop the car of Life, but what lies in our hands is steering it towards Heaven.

Many of us make choices in Life, which wins us a ticket to Heaven. Many of us make choices in life, which win us a ticket to Hell. Do we realize? How will we realize? How will we know? Do we have the address and directions of our Destination? Do we have knowledge of Quran and Sunnah? What are we doing with ourselves, our spouse, our children, our parents, our relatives, our friends? What are the choices we make? What are the suggestions we give? We guide towards what?

If each step of our life could be translated by some ‘Deed’s Calculator’, it would give us an evaluation such as, ‘Super! You have just turned towards Jannah’, ‘Uh-oh, you have just taken a wrong turn, a turn towards Hell’, ‘Bingo! You have earned five points for Jannah’, ‘Rats! You have lost fifty points from your scale, making you eligible for Hell now’, ‘Speed up! You are moving too slow, you cannot reach Jannah at this pace’, ‘Slow down! Danger ahead! Stop and rethink! This path goes to Hell…Are you sure you want to continue?’… and so on. But we do not have an external gadget Deed’s Calculator’s with us. But what we do have with us is an internal gadget, a heart. That’s right, Prophet Muhammed Pbuh told us that this heart tells us all.

It means that when we think something, our heart gives us an indication whether this is a good thought or not. When we say something, our heart gives us an indication whether this is a good say or not. When we do something, our heart gives us an indication whether this is a good deed or not. Should we continue thinking it, saying it or doing it or should we take a turn? Should we turn in Repentance? But only such a heart can become this indicator which has been sensitized with the knowledge of Quran and Sunnah. Else, it just remains to be a dark, dusty, rusted blood pump and nothing more.

Allah Almighty gave an Eternal Life to the child of a doctor who gives life to other people’s children in this World.

Dr. Tanveer Ahmed, unknowingly, actually and physically drove his son to Jannah, for narrated Mother Aisha RA in Sahih Muslim: A child died and I said, ‘There is happiness for this child who is now a bird from amongst the birds of Paradise...

And Dr. Tanveer Ahmed, unknowingly, also reserved for himself a place in Jannah, for narrated Syedna Abu Hurayrah RA in Sahih Muslim: When the child will meet his parents, he would take hold of their cloth and would not take off his hand from it until Allah causes his parents to enter Paradise…

What about us ? We are driving too ... are we moving in the right direction ? Are we going fast enough ? Are we sure ?