The Hidden Shirk

The more I read about riyaa, the 'hidden shirk'..the more scared I get. The Prophet pbuh once said, "Shall I not inform you of what I fear for you more than the maseeh ud-dajjal? It is the hidden shirk. It is when a man stands up for prayer, then beautifies his prayer for another to look at." In a lengthy hadith, it is said that on the Day of Judgment, three people will be brought to Allah swt, a knowledgeable person (aalim), a generous person, and a mujaahid. These three will present their respective deeds to Allah swt who will say to them:  "You have rendered these deeds for riyaa and acclaim. You rendered these acts so that people may say: 'You are a great 'aalim, a generous person, and a great mujahid. You have already obtained what you had sought. People have already praised you on earth. You have therefore no right here. Enter the Fire."
Obviously good deeds are done for Allah swt only...but do we pray a little better and work a little harder when people are looking? Whose pleasure are we ultimately seeking?
I ask myself these questions before I ask anyone else. The more involved I get in community work, the more I raise these questions. Do I care if my efforts go unnoticed by others? Do I expect praise? Do I reject criticism? Am I too good for some tasks? I hope my answers are "definitely not"...but in the end, it is the humbling moments when the work isn't so glamorous that speak for themselves- doing the "dirty work" that no one wants to do, and doing them privately for no one's sake but His. Being sincere requires effort- constant renewal of intentions, istighfar, and reminders. Yes, it is easier to pray qiyam with a group at a masjid- but do we try to pray a few extra rakaas at home? Do we seek more visibility in the work we do? Would we rather speak at a mic than do the behind-the-scenes work? These are some of the questions anyone active in daawa work should ask themselves, whether at the masjid or in the MSA. We are all at risk of this hidden shirk- which Ibn Abbas reports is 'more hidden than a black ant on a black stone in a dark night'. SubhanAllah- what could be more hidden than that! Sheikh al-Shaarawi, one of the greatest scholars of Quran interpretation of our time, may Allah be pleased with him feared this shirk. He had millions of fans, millions of followers who learned at his feet. Once he was found alone scrubbing the toilets of a masjid in his Azhari clothes- yes, a man who was on national tv every week! He wanted to rid his heart of any arrogance and riyaa, by humbling himself to clean toilets that many of us wouldn't dare to go near. May Allah swt purify our hearts from hypocrisy and our actions from riyaa, and make us steadfast on the Straight Path, ameen.

Old Babies

If I learned anything the past few weeks at work, it's to count my blessings. I'm currently halfway through a 6-week rotation at the Wrentham Developmental Center (WDC), a state-run institution that houses 300 residents with mental retardation (MR) and developmental disabilities. The center is comprised of countless buildings and cottages on acres and acres of beautiful fields and farm land. The average age of the residents is 62, ranging from 33 to 99 years old. Most of them have been living there for 40+ years since they were young children. Although a handful are mildly retarded, most are classified as profound, and that is why they live in this facility- because they wouldn't be able to live out in the community.
Each one of them has a story, how and why they ended up here..and some are heartbreaking. Some have genetic conditions, like the 4 brothers that live at WDC, or the several sets of twins we have....others were abused as babies. One of the female residents was thrown down the stairs by her father when she was a baby, some were shaken to the point of brain damage. Some were beaten and molested as infants- and then dropped off at the center, never to be seen by their family again. One of the black male residents was injured at birth because during the 1950's the white doctor staffing refused to help the mother in labor...so she squatted on the floor to give birth. One of them fell out of the car when the door accidentally swung open after the vehicle made a sharp turn. One of them had a bad seizure as an adult in which he bit off a piece of his tongue and choked on it, causing anoxia leading to some brain damage. He is the brightest of them all, and had even served in the marines at one point. He lost his ability to speak after an operation on his trachea, and so types phrases in his little machine that verbalizes his statements. Still bitter about what happened to him, and not fitting in well knowing he's brighter than everyone else around him, he types phrases like "Marty is an @$$" referring to his roommate, and continuously hits repeat. When I first met him, he shook my hand and typed "I want to go home".
What really got me choked up was the time I visited the residents of Marion Moore Hall- the most severely retarded residents. Most in their 70s, they were the size of 5 year-olds. Some of them were sleeping in bassinets, all of them in diapers. One of the guys, built but short and in his mid-60s, was sitting on a high chair with his eyes closed,chewing on a toy-just like the way my baby brother Malik does. He is blind, and has the brain function of a 3 month old baby. Sitting on couches near him were several old men, each playing with their own stuffed animal. I had never seen anything like it, they were like grown babies. They were sucking their thumbs, they were swaddled, they were as pure and innocent...free of any sin. None of them has ever hurt anyone, done something wrong, said something that shouldn't have been said. I was sad for them and their families, but happy to think that they would all be in jannah someday..where they wouldn't have to be spoon-fed and bathed by others anymore. Where they can enjoy endless bounties from Allah, for not having a chance to live in this dunia.
The next time you call someone retarded...take a moment to think about what you're really saying. Thank Allah for giving you a functioning brain...for being able to feed yourself without choking, drink without aspirating, clean yourself without assistance, and live without constant monitoring. Alhamdulilah for the ability to think, the ability to do. Think about your potentials and make them happen. Don't let a neuron go wasted. Unlike the residents at Wrentham Developmental Center, we will be held accountable for our actions. As Ghandi once said, "The difference between what we do and what we are capable of doing would suffice to solve most of the world's problem."

Simple yet Sweet Duaa

I came across this duaa on another blog, and thought to share :) Allahuma ameen

“I seek refuge in you O Allah! From eyes that are not restrained and from a tongue that is not tamed.
I seek refuge in You O Allah! From a heart that is complacent and from a mood that is not patient.
I seek refuge in You O Allah! From a soul that is not grateful and from a thought that is not lawful.
I seek refuge in You O Allah! From a limb that is not humbled and from conviction that begins to stumble.

I seek refuge in You O Allah! From hoarding every pence and slowness in obedience.
I seek refuge in You O Allah! From love of material life and from ignorance of Eternal life.
I seek refuge in You O Allah! From the trials of life and death and from the punishment of the grave.
I seek refuge in You O Allah! From the trials of Ad-Dajjal and from the torment of the blaze of Jahannam.
Grant me wisdom, O Most High! And understanding and strength.
Grant me fortitude, O Magnificent! And humility to repent.
Grant me light, O Most Merciful! To penetrate my heart.
Grant me Your Love O Creator! For the Greatest Thou art. Ameen Thuma Ameen.”

A Reality Check

The topic of death isn't something I thought I'd ever write about. It's dark, it's depressing, it's an abstract concept that becomes reality when we are hit with reminders. And that's why reminders are important, "And remind, for verily, the reminding profits the believers" [51:55].
Not long ago, I was on a rotation at a hospital in Brockton, MA. Every morning I went on rounds in critical care unit, where I would team up with some doctors, physician assistants, and nurses, and we would discuss every patient in the critical care unit's case, and make whatever changes to their treatment that was necessary. I would observe every patient, follow their lab results, watch as their case improved over time, or deteriorated with complications. Anytime a patient passed away or "expired" as they say, it broke my heart to throw their file into the shredder. To me, they were not just bad cases of pneumonia, heart failure, or sever sepsis- they were people. They were someone's father or mother, son or daughter- and as I went about my day, having lunch, laughing with co-workers, that someone was painfully grieving.
Once on rounds I was standing outside a patient's room as we were discussing cases. He was an older man, and his wife and grown children were present. I noticed that there was a breakfast table, with coffee and muffins, set right outside that patient's room. That's when I realized the patient was "CMO" or "Comfort Measures Only". CMO means that basically a patient's case is hopeless, and the family and medical team agree to discontinue all treatment, and let the patient die "comfortably". The only thing they are giving is some morphine for pain. The coffee and muffins are supposedly to help comfort the family as they watch their loved one depart.
I was standing outside this patient's room for over an hour. Although I was supposed to be listening to what was being discussed, I couldn't help but watch this patient and his family out of the corner of my eye. His children sat around him, holding his hand. They would laugh one minute, and cry another. His wife was smiling, with tears in her eyes. A million questions popped into my head. Did he treat his family well? Was he pleased with his children? Were his children pleased with him? Did he do good in this life? Did he positively impact anyone? Did he make this world a better place? Did he have any grudges? Did anyone have grudges against him? Suddenly I found myself staring off in a distance imagining myself in his place. Have I wronged anyone? Have I been good to my parents? Was I a good servant to Allah? Did I perform all my prayers? Did I perform all my prayers correctly? Will people remember me and make duaa for me after I go? Or will people forget I ever walked the Earth?
My thoughts were interrupted by several machines that started wildly beeping. The patient's vitals started going out of control. Because he was CMO, no nurse or doctor ran to help him. I continued to stand outside his door, as I watched his family tightly hug each other and cry. I felt helpless, I wanted to run in and inject him with atropine to get his heart rate back up, but there was nothing I could do. Suddenly the lines on the monitors went flat, and the beeping stopped. The doctor that was with us on rounds looked at his watch, strolled into the room and announced "Time of death: 11:13 am". He walked back out, and continued where he left off, discussing another patient's case. A nurse walked into the room and pulled a curtain around the "expired" patient's bed. The wife was crying, the children were crying, and I was crying. I tried casually wiping my eyes with my white coat, but there was nothing I could do to hide it. For everyone else it was as if nothing happened. They started complaining that they were hungry and asking what was being served for lunch in the cafeteria.
When the team decided to break for lunch, I walked with my supervisor to my office and expressed how surprised I was at how casual everyone was about the situation. We just watched someone live his last hour of life and then pass away. She explained that as unfortunate as it is, the reality is that people die- everyone dies. As healthcare professionals, we cannot attach ourselves to patients and humanize them because eventually we would go insane. She left the office, and I sat on my chair and cried my heart out. I have never been so close to death. I have never watched someone die. I have never watched someone watch their father or husband die. Was I just upset because someone died? Or because they were heading to the "afterlife"? Or because the reality of my own death struck me and I'm not prepared for it? Death is a reality, and as Allah says "And by the Lord of the heavens and the earth, it is the truth, even as (it is true) that ye speak." [51:23]. Allah knows best, but it really got me to self-reflect and evaluate myself and the legacy I want to leave behind. As tragic as the loss of a life is, it's important that we use another one's departure as a reminder of our own imminent death, and keep us on track in preparing for the Afterlife. However, one thing for certain is that patients may pass away or die, but they are not medicine or spoiled food and will never "expire".

A Beautiful Encounter

Yesterday afternoon I was in the masjid cafe purchasing a chocolate chip cookie (typical lol) and chatting with my friend who was working behind the counter. A Hispanic-looking man in probably his early 40s quietly walked in and stood behind me in line. He ordered some milk and a blondie....then decided he wanted two blondies instead. 

Cashier jokingly: "You can't have two that's so unhealthy...I feel bad giving you one!"

Man laughing: "It's ok I ran today"

Cashier: "That's even worse, you're just going to get back what you burned off"

Man: "Actually I run twice everyday"

Me: "Seriously?..."

Man: "Yeah...I used to be a professional soccer player..about 10 years ago. We had to run all the time. Played for the LA Galaxy"

Me: "Wait whaaaat? like you're famous? What's your name...and what are you doing here??"

The man laughed and gave his name in some indecipherable Spanish...and asked if we were into soccer. The cashier told him that she followed the World Cup, and he excitedly started telling us about how he was there helping out. He took out his phone and showed us all these pictures of him with other athletes and celebrities there. He explained that he currently works with FIFA and basically had unlimited access...he then shows us older pictures of him as a player both on the field and in the locker room.

We decided to sit down at a table....he was eating his two blondies and I was taking care of my chocolate chip cookie. I asked him again about what brought him to the ISBCC..He explained that he was in Boston for a while for some business regarding the Major League Soccer and then says:

"I just converted to Islam.....last night"

SubhanAllah...my mouth dropped open. He looked me straight in the eye and stated that last night, for the first time in his life, he could "actually sleep". The first time he felt at peace. SubhanAllah. 

He went on very softly, "you should've seen the text messages I was getting from my friends...telling me to go out with them and all. I don't want to do any of that. I don't want to live like that... I haven't even had alcohol in 15 years. And I don't eat pork". At this point he started to cry and had my eyes tearing up as well.."I woke up this morning and the only place I wanted to be was here. I have only been here once, and it feels like home...it really feels like home. I don't ever want to leave here, I don't want to be anywhere else right now...I showered and came straight here, to where my brothers and sisters are". SubhanAllah...subhanAllah how Allah guides whom He wills...how else would an ex-professional athlete, who has no obvious connection to Islam or Muslims, find the truth other than by the mercy of Allah swt. We talked for a bit longer, and then I had to leave, but insha'Allah I hope to meet him again before he leaves to wherever else Major League Soccer takes him. As we were parting he said "thank you...umm uhh I mean...what's that word...Ja-- something". I couldn't help but laugh. "You mean Jazak Allah khayr? haha don't worry you can say thank you". I walked out of the masjid to the train station with a giant smile on my face. The whole encounter was just beautiful...this man was like a baby. A new Muslim...a clean slate. Insha'Allah nothing he did before that day would count against him..no words he said, places he has been to, things he has done...all erased with the mercy of Allah swt. A man who lived in seemingly fortunate circumstances, with fame and money, was still not at peace until he found the light he had been looking for. May Allah swt continue to guide Him, and guide people through him. May He make it easy for him, and make him steadfast in his deen. May this new Muslim continue to inspire others, as he has inspired me. Ameen, ameen, ameen.

My To Do List

For six years, pharmacy school consumed my life. Especially the last three years- everything had to be put on hold. I often found myself starting my sentences with "when I finish school.....". Now that I'm officially done, alhamdulilah, I have such a long list I don't even know where to begin! I start rotations/grad school in a week, and so I can only take care of low budget goals for now.
Things I want to accomplish this year:
- memorize the Quran
- make MAS College events better and more beneficial than they've ever been
- successfully co/lead an usrah/halaqa
- paint
- exercise regularly
- perform umrah
- visit Algeria
- read novels
- keep up this blog and make it beneficial to both myself and others

I realize the worst thing one can do is overwhelm themselves with things to do...especially while working and studying full-time. I hope to refer to this list and be able to check things off as time goes on. I pray that Allah swt gives us all patience and puts baraka in our time so we can accomplish all that we dream of insha'Allah!

Bismillah

Bismillah al Rahman al Raheem

Asalamu alaikum wa rahmatullahi wabarakatuh,

I'm excited about this starting this blog...never in a million years would I have thought I'd actually have one..but here it is and here I am :). Insha'Allah this can serve as a healthy way for me to channel and express my thoughts and feelings regarding events going on in my life and around the world. I hope you benefit from this as much as I do!

Fi aman Allah