---- KING ----
"Can you bring me my food, please?" My mum asked as she turned to look at me, her eyes pleading with me to bring her some food as I sat on the seat beside her couch.
"You already had your food, ma. You need to wait until dinner." I said to her apologetically with a small smile.
"You never help me." She said like a child as she turned around, showing me her back instead and making me sigh. I looked around for a nurse but couldn't see one anywhere.
"Mum?" I said softly, but she ignored me. "Mum, I'll bring you McDonald's next week." I reasoned with an exhale. I only got to see her once a week and I didn't want to spend the only hour I got with her during the week with her being mad at me.
"Okay." She said simply, turning back around to look at me and I gave her a small smile, clenching my jaw as I looked at my fingers. I don't know why my mother was like this, or what I did in my childhood to deserve this. I loved my mother more than anything and anything in this world. I would die for her, yet why couldn't she be normal. It wasn't even her being sick that got to me, but the fact that because of her sickness, she couldn't show me her love and Lord knows I needed at least one person in this entire world to show me love.
"Do you still have the Islamic pamphlet?" I asked her slowly, looking back up at her face and watching as she nodded her head. "Here, look. I want to show you something." I said, taking my phone out of my pocket and opening my photo library
. The last time I went to the mosque where Walter explained to me the story of Umar Ibn al-Khattab, I had quickly snapped a few pictures and a video of the architecture while the men were busy praying.
"Oh, wow." She said in awe as she looked at the screen with wide eyes, her mouth agape. I smiled at her, watching her facial expressions as I pressed play on the video. She looked so calm, awe-stricken and serene as she stared at the screen.
She looked a lot like me whenever I was at the Masjid.
"How'd your dinner go?" I asked my dad, not even glancing up to look at him as I took the fork to my mouth, shoving the potato in and chewing loudly, not caring that Nadia was sitting right across me beside my dad.
"It went well." He answered simply, looking at me with slightly narrowed eyes as he chopped the bloody potato on his bloody plate in half with a bloody knife before putting it into his bloody mouth.
I found that swearing at him on the inside helped me control my anger on the outside.
"Did you make thousands off the deal?" I scoffed sarcastically. He knew I couldn't give a crap less about his damn business or his deals.
"Yes, in fact. We did. Quite a few hundreds of thousands." He answered, making me roll my eyes as he seemed so happy and proud of himself. I wonder what it was like to be a father who cared more about the well-being of his business than the wellbeing of his son.
Could never relate.
"That's great. Now you can spend that money buying your trophy wife a little gift." I muttered my mum flashing in my mind and making me clench my jaw. It wasn't fair.
It wasn't fair that he was here making millions and leading an extravagant life when my mum was cooped up in a mental hospital.
I heard Nadia release a sigh and I glanced her way. She looked at me in disappointment. I liked Nadia. She was a nice step mum even though we hardly spoke and so I did very slightly feel bad about what I said, but it was worth it when I saw my dad tense up.
"You're such an imbecile!" He spat, looking at me, his jaw clenched as he dropped the utensils in his hand onto the table. "Pack up your bags and leave the house as soon as you can." He muttered as he got up, wiped his mouth with his serviette before storming out of the dining room, his steps heard going up the stairs.
"Why can we not have one peaceful dinner in this house?" Nadia asked, dropping her utensils also as she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me.
"Sorry for calling you a trophy wife." I said simply, ignoring her question while cutting a piece of chicken and chewing it, not looking at her, but seeing her arms drop from her chest. I knew her face would have been completely shocked, even though I wasn't looking at her, I could feel it.
"Did you just apologize?" She spluttered, her voice sounding ecstatic as if I had just told her she'd won the lottery. Actually, I guess that wouldn't really affect her much. I stayed silent, not giving her an answer as she tilted her head to the side.
"Linda, leave us, please. Shut the door on your way out." She said to the maid who nodded her head obediently and left the dining room, sliding the double doors shut. Once the soft patter of her feet faded into silence, Nadia spoke, making my heartbeat race.
"So, mind telling me what's been going on with you these last few weeks?" She asked simply, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow and once again crossing her arms over her chest.
"What do you mean?" I replied simply, trying to shrug my shoulders and make it seem like there was nothing going on as I took another bite of the food. How had she even noticed?
"Well, you've been more calm, you've been staying at home a lot more, you haven't been coming home hung-over, there are no cigarette butts around the floor outside your bedroom window, you hardly go out on the weekend ... " She trailed off before speaking again after taking a sip of the wine in her glass. "Need I say more?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Nadia." I muttered slowly, completely ignoring and hiding the fact that I felt Goosebumps rise on every inch of my body. Was that really how I had been these past few weeks? This wasn't me. Hell, I didn't even know who I was yet. I thought I did, but in these weeks, I've really begun to question myself and even my lifestyle that I thought I was completely happy with.
"Cut the crap, King. Listen. I know you hate me and I love the one person you hate most, but I care for you. I genuinely do. I wish for your family ..."
"My family problems are none of your business, Nadia!" I shouted, narrowing my eyes at her once I heard her try to speak about my mum and dad's life, watching as she raised her hands in surrender.
"I'm just saying I really wish you never had to go through the things you did. I know your dad has made many mistakes in the past that you didn't deserve. But, I also know that he cares for you as well, he just doesn't know how to show it."
"What's your point?" I cut her off again. I didn't have any time for legalities and I just wanted her to spit out what she wanted to say.
In the three or four years that they've been married, this was probably the most I've spoken to Nadia and no surprise it was because we were the only ones in the room. If my dad was in here, he would have told her to shut up five minutes ago.
"My point is, I can help you. I can try my best to help you with what you're going through." I was about to cut her off again, but she raised her hand to stop me. "I know, I know. You don't need help and you certainly don't want mine. Just know that I care for your well-being, and whatever change you're going through in life right now, I'll be more than happy to support you." She said with a small smile, making me sigh.
I stayed silent, processing her words. I did appreciate them. I cared for Nadia as well, clearly not as much as she supposedly did for me, but she's never been anything but kind to me so I had no reason to hate her like I hated most people.
"Thanks." I said simply, looking down at my plate and finishing off the last few bites.
"So you're not going to tell me?" She asked with a small smirk, picking up her knife and fork again to eat.
"Don't push it." I said simply with a scoff, holding back the chuckle that I wanted to let escape. I wiped my mouth and put the serviette on my empty plate before standing up and leaving towards the door.
"Have you finally found your girl?" She called behind me, releasing a laugh. For the first time in a while, her eyes flashed in my mind, making me close my eyes quickly so I could savor them, but it was only a flash before they were gone, and even though I questioned why she had popped up in my head when Nadia asked me that question, I forced a laugh.
"Definitely not." I spoke. "And, Nadia ... I don't hate you." I said as I pushed the door open and walked upstairs to my room to get my jacket.
No. I hadn't found a girl, but pretty soon, I was sure I'd be finding something else.
And maybe my girl too.
"I have one more question, lads." I called as I walked towards the guy's who were sitting in the middle of the Masjid. They all looked up at my voice and made room for me to sit also. There were about six of them and so I was ready to get an answer.
"One more? Then what? You're done with us." Ahmad said as he laughed, throwing me a bottle of water. Why did these guys always have bottles of water with them? Was this holy water? Were they trying to make me Muslim by making me drink this all the time?
"Yeah, pretty much." I laughed, playing along. Truth was I didn't know why the hell I said 'one more.' I guess it just came out subconsciously.
"Shoot, bro." Bilal said as he took a necklace of beads off his neck and began to count the beads. Okay?
"Alright. So if there is a god, right? Give me one good answer as to why shi ... "I cleared my throat, feeling uncomfortable swearing in a 'holy' place."Why do bad things happen to good people and vice versa?" I asked. If there truly was a God, then why my mum suffered the way she does when she was the sweetest and kindhearted person I knew, and why was my dad living the life of a King.
"Ooh, this is a juicy one." Walter said with a smile. I remember him telling me how his dad used to beat him when he was younger and so I suppose he had already gotten his answer before he converted, or reverted since they believed everyone was born Muslim.
"Who wants to go?" Bilal spoke and Ahmad cleared his throat. I think he was the most knowledgeable of the bunch.
"Qadr." He spoke. "It means fate, divine fore-ordaining, predestination, the divine decree of Allah." He said. "It's one of the pillars of eeman. Remember, we briefly talked about this that day." He said and I nodded but I wanted him to go further into the topic which is what he did. "So Qadr is the concept of divine destiny in Islam. The belief that every single thing, good and bad, comes from Allah and Allah alone and that had He not willed for it to, none of it would have occurred. Allah tells us in the Qur'an in reference to Himself in verse 59 of Surah al-An'am; ``Not a leaf falls but that He knows it." He said, the guys around murmuring Allahu Akbar [Allah is the greatest] and SubhanAllah [Praised be God, Glory be to God].
"For instance you have all these innocent, poor lives that are being killed by US and Russian bombing in Syria, as well as by their own doggish government, yet all of this Allah has willed. Allah created us for one purpose and that was to worship Him. 'It is he who created death and life to test which of you are best indeed, for He is the Almighty, the Forgiving.' Surat al-Mulk, verse 2.
Whether we die in our sleep, in a house fire, in bombings ... that's just an excuse. When your time is up, you'll be made to leave the world like so many people before you and no doubt so many after you. The only thing you have is your deeds. Good and bad, he said with a sigh. "Of course it's sad to think about them. They suffer every single day while we're here laughing and chatting comfortably.
The Prophet, peace be upon him, told us; if Allah intends good for someone, then he afflicts him with trials. [Source: Sahih al-Bukhari 5321, Grade: Sahih] So it could just be that they are more beloved to Allah than we are and all He wants is to expiate their sins for their benefit in the long run. Insha Allah [if God wills] in the Hereafter, they're going to be so much happier than us for with every single pain they went through, Allah has expiated and gotten rid of their sins for it. The Prophet, peace be upon him, told us; the servant will continue to be tried until he is left walking upon the earth without any sin. [Source: Sunan al-Tirmidhi 2398, Grade: Sahih] So imagine, you go through all these rough patches in your life no matter how small or big they are, yet for every little suffering, even if it were the prick of a thorn that hurts you for a split second, Allah takes away your sins. Alhamdulillah [All praise be to Allah]."
As always, my heart was beating loudly like it did every time I learnt something new or visited the Masjid.
"There's also the other Hadith I really like where the Prophet, may the peace and blessings of Allah be upon him, said; Wondrous is the affair of the believer for there is good for him in every matter and this is not the case with anyone except the believer. If he is happy, then he thanks Allah and thus there is good for him. If he is harmed, then he shows patience and thus it is good for him. [Source: Sahih Muslim 2999, Grade: Sahih] SubhanAllah. You know that one?" Bilal asked no one in particular and the guys nodded as they murmured SubhanAllah and Allahu Akbar again.
"Why do I have small problems when I can take so much more and little kids who are still weak and frail have massive ones? Surely that isn't fair on them. They don't even have sins yet." I said, remember reading somewhere that sins only start being written down once a person reaches the age of puberty and knows what the consequences of their actions are.
"Perhaps the children themselves are trials for the parents." Ahmad said, making me narrow my eyes. "I know, I know. Let me explain. So there's a Hadith where the Prophet, peace be upon him says; when the child of a servant dies, Allah says to the angels: Have you taken the life of my servant's child? They say yes. Allah says: Have you taken the fruit of his heart? They say yes. Allah says: What has my servant said? They say: He has praised you and said to Allah we belong and to Allah we return.
Allah says: Build a house for my servant in Paradise and name it the House of Praise. [Source: Sunan al-Tirmidhi 1021, Grade: Hassan] So maybe that in itself, having a child who dies or suffers is a means for the parent to attain paradise. I, for one, would do absolutely anything; I would gladly take a bullet and die if I knew it would give my mother Paradise." He said, a soft smile taking over his lips.
"Aw!" Zubayr cooed as he leaned over and shoved Ahmad's shoulder. "Such a mummy's boy." He said with a snicker making Ahmad narrow his eyes. "So what, bro?
Like you're not one as well!" He defended as he leaned over and punched him back making me and the rest of the guys laugh. An older man, who was sitting beside the circle, clearly listening in on our conversation, added his two cents.
"There's also a reason for every trial." He spoke. "Like what, amo?" Walter asked with a smile.
It was weird how they could just talk to one another so comfortably even though they might not personally know each other.
"Trials, tribulation, pain, tests, heartbreak, all these things that happen that we deem as bad or unfair, might actually be for our own benefit and well-being, yet we know not. It is simply a lesson for us to ponder on. So we should not look at things and assume Allah wants us to suffer. He, in all His endless knowledge that encompasses all things, may be helping us for our own benefit. This does not go to say all trials are good, some trials serve as punishment for our sins, or warnings from Allah to turn back to Him.
Some happen in order to make us stronger individuals, stronger Muslims. Some may happen in order to teach us a lesson. Some happen to save us from something worse that could happen down the line and some occur while we're feeling distant from Allah in order to bring us back to Him. We will never know, but Allah knows.
What we Muslims do is have Tawakkul, trust in Allah and His plans always. We have faith in Allah's decree and acknowledge that everything, good and bad, comes from Him and everything, good and bad, is for our benefit either in this world, the next, or both." He concluded.
"Bravo! Bravo!" Zubayr commented as he clapped his hands and stood up, walking the short distance to the man and holding his cheeks as he kissed the top of his bald head making me smile slightly as I watched the man swat Zubayr's hands away and slap his arm but all while holding back a smile.
"BarakAllahu feek [God bless you (to a male)], amo." The guys all said almost in sync before the man nodded and stood up.
"Amen. Wa feekum." He smiled walking away as we were once again left to ourselves. "In saying all of that," Bilal spoke up. "I do know that you should never wish for trials just so you can have your sins wiped away. Wishing death upon yourself is not permissible as Allah knows when you will die and He knows best and if He chooses to keep you alive, who are you to object to the lifespan He chose to grant you whether that'd be 20, 50 or 90." Bilal said and Ahmad nodded, agreeing with him and validating his answer.
"The Prophet, peace be upon him, said; Verily, the blessed person is one kept away from trials. Verily, the blessed person is one kept away from trials. Verily, the blessed person is one kept away from trials. How good is one who is afflicted but bears it patiently! [Source: Sunan Abi Dawud 4263, Grade: Sahih] and he would usually repeat things three times when they were of importance and he wanted to make a point. So never should we ask for trials." Ahmad said with a smile. "Does that answer your question?" One of the guys, whom I've never met before, asked as he smiled at me.
I nodded after processing everything that had been said and answered honestly. "It does."
"You know the one Hadith that helps me bear every single trial of mine?" One of the quieter guys asked and everyone looked over at him with raised eyebrows.
"Jabir narrated that the Prophet " said: 'On the Day of Judgment, when the people who were tried (in this world) are given their rewards, the people who were pardoned (in life), will wish that their skins had been cut off with scissors while they were in the world.' Imagine wishing you'd suffered in this world just so you don't suffer in the hereafter." He said with a shake of his head as all the guys nodded, two of them saying they had never heard that Hadith before.
"It makes perfect sense." I sighed, feeling my shoulders relax.
Walter grinned, hugging his knees to his chest as he sighed. "You know, this is why I fell in love with Islam." He said almost dreamily as he was clearly remembering back to a time when he was first learning about it. "There is never a question without an in-depth answer and never ever a ruling, without a logical reason and explanation. Everything in Islam, is truly for our own benefit whether we know it or not." It seemed like over time, I was beginning to realize this as well.