The Hooded Hijabi

Purpose of Life

I close the door of my bedroom and sit in a corner, huddled up with my arms resting on my knees. Guide me, Ya Rabb. There's just no one I can think of who could do this to me. I don't understand. I just don't. It's so frustrating that all these tiny issues keep coming up and somehow I get so tangled up in them. I want to focus on You but Your servants, they just won't let me be.

My phone beeps and I check Rachel's text message:
"Call me when you feel better..I'm worried. xoxo"

I begin to type a reply but feel so low suddenly that I simply play Mishary Al-Afasy's recitation instead.

I rest my head on my arms, close my eyes and listen to his voice in the dim room lightened up by fairy lights.

After a few minutes I feel thirsty so I go out of the room to get some water but on my way to the kitchen I see Ali sitting on the maroon, leather couch in front of the TV. The screen's blank but Ali keeps staring at it.

"What's up?", I ask him casually and he blinks instantly as if coming back from another world entirely.

"Nothing much. Just chilling", he replies dryly.

"Clearly."

I fetch a glass of water and sit by his side, drinking it in three gulps. "I know I haven't been around for you lately but you should know that I'm always here for you when you need me", I say softly.

"Hmm, yeah, I know", his eyes fixed on the blank screen for the TV again.

"No, you don't. If you did you wouldn't be sitting here all by yourself pondering over whatever that's disturbing you."

Ali sighs and glances at me. "What's the point of living?", he asks. I'm somewhat taken aback by such a question, not expecting him to be dealing with this at such an age, but I don't display my thoughts on my face.

"O Lord! I have become weary of human assemblages! When the heart is sad no pleasure in assemblages can be", I recite the words of Allama Iqbal to myself and then speak to Ali, "If dunya is your focus then quite frankly I don't know the answer to your question either."

"However, Ali, we keep forgetting the real purpose of our life which is why we fail to attain peace. Your purpose should be Him. And the day you realise that, trust me, my little one, things will become so clear. When you find happiness you begin to thank Him. When you are faced with grief, you begin to seek His Help. Everything in life suddenly revolves around Him. And I don't know if He isn't what we're living for then what is."

"I love Him. I love Him so much that I feel like He hasn't yet taught me the words that could explain my Love for Him. Love; the word's too dry for me. Ishq.(Fervent Love) Mohabat.(Romance) Affection. Adoration. Bring any word from any dictionary and it cannot encompass my Love for Him entirely", I continue.

"We call Him As-Samad in Surah Ikhlas. Do you know what you're saying when you recite that, Ali? You're saying that He is your Purpose. Your Ultimate Goal. The One you aspire to Please. It's so clear, Ali, He's the point of living", I say as His Love overwhelms me and a drop of tear rolls down my cheek.

Ali places his head on my shoulder and I hear him sniff and he says in a heavy voice,"I miss Him, Api."

I smile and ask,"But how can you miss someone Who's right there in your heart?"

"And We are closer to him than his jugular vein." *

Ali then asks me,"How can I please Him?"

I take a moment to reply,"Ali, I'm not a wise person but little that I do know is this. Allah Loves His servants so to Please Him one must Please His Makhlooq(creation). First step after Loving Him should be to sincerely love Muhammad (PBUH) and follow his Sunnah."

"Second step is to love and help Allah's creation, to polish one's Ikhlaq(manners) which also happens to be one of the greatest sunnahs of the Prophet(PBUH)."

"I'm weak. I Love Allah and His Messenger(PBUH) wholeheartedly but I still stagger in His way. My ikhlaq isn't perfect. I don't follow every sunnah but I keep striving and I guess, that's just what keeps me going. The moment I think of Him denouncing me because of my lack of sincerity, I shudder and take a step forward towards Him. I must have Him is what I remind myself."

Ali abruptly begins to tremble slightly and cries, and I hug him while caressing his hair. I recite another one of Iqbal's poem softly:

"Completion of your Love is what I desire
Look at my sincerity what little I desire...

May the pious be happy with this Paradise
Only to see your Countenance I desire..."

<End of Chapter 17>
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* Surah Qaf, Verse 50.

Author's Note: I've kept this short on purpose because this chapter is really close to my heart and I really didn't feel like adding anything else to it. Also, Ali's character is inspired by my little brother so this chapter is dedicated to him. Peace out, y'all!