My Qadr

Letters And Boxes

Farrah

Today was just like every other normal day.

I woke up to pray for Fajr as usual, brushed my teeth as usual, performed my ablution as usual, rolled out my mat as..... You get the gist!

But today, when I finished praying and said my du'a, I couldn't help but linger for a while.

There was no doubt that I was embarrassed, just having made a fool of myself in front of my boss the previous day.

Someone normal would perhaps brush it off, call it something normal, and it really was, and get on with their lives.

But I was Farrah Ahmad. And I wasn't normal.

My chest felt heavy and I struggled to breath, tears welled up in my eyes and I felt lost.

"Allah", the whisper left my mouth quietly, brokenly.

I had one of those moments where I felt a mental block. I wanted so badly to communicate what I felt to Allah, to weave my words in beauty that my lord deserved, to ask from him, things that only He could provide, to relieve me of the burden that was weighing heavily on my chest.

But nothing would come out.

Not a single word.

So I sat on that mat, quietly, willing the tears to stop in their track.

"Allah, you're my lord. You're the lord of everything that exists, from the smallest ant to the largest whale, to the skies that house them all and the earth that bears their weight.

You know what's in my heart right now. And you know why you made what happened yesterday happen. You've planned every detail of my life, and you have control over it.

Ya rabb, I feel lost. And I don't even know why I feel this way over something so small, just that I do.

Please Ya rabb, grant me peace, grant my heart the solace it needs, and make everything right in my world".

Relief didn't come to me instantaneously as I stood up from the mat, but my head felt clearer, my heart the tiniest bit lighter.

I made slow work of getting ready, not really in the mood to report for work.

***
When I got to the office, the mortification I'd felt yesterday came at me in full force, weighing upon me as I walked the way to the office.

Mr Zayyad was there when I got to the office.

I don't know why i expected that for some reason, he would suddenly catch a cold and not come to work. Maybe it was just my wishful thinking.

My voice was tiny as I muttered, "Assalamu alaykum wa rahmatullah wa barakaatuh sir".

He looked up briefly, just long enough to acknowledge my greeting with his, and dropped his head back to his table.

The office was quiet, a silence enveloping it that I could make nothing of.

Was it a silence that was borne of out Mr Zayyad's awkwardness, or was it just one of the normal silence that filled the room when we were both engrossed in our works?

Either way, I didn't wait long enough to deduce that, I simply walked towards my table and took a seat, just barely hearing the door close lightly as I sat.

I looked up to find Mr Zayyad absent from the room.

My head dipped, a sigh of relief escaping through my lips.