4 Min Read

Tayeba Sharif

As the storm rages on and destroys all things in its path including trees, homes, crops and livelihoods, being totally unsympathetic to how the world will have to cope with the consequences, a sudden heaviness settles in my chest. I try taking an antacid plus, but it doesn’t go away. I try drinking cold milk in hopes of dissipating the gastric, but even that goes in vain. Then I take out a whole jar of Nutella and scoop it with my fingers in hopes of comforting the storm inside my head. When that doesn’t work, I blast music on full volume in my speakers to drown myself in misery until I forget it completely. But I don’t. All my wrong decisions, missed opportunities, and expectations I failed to stand upon — come back just to kill me over and over. Hours pass, but the storm does not subside; neither the one outside, nor the one inside.

And then I hear it, the Azaan blaring loud from the pretty white mosque near my residence. The Azaan soothes my anxiety a little bit. So, I stand up and put fresh clothes on, head for ablution and make niyaat for Tahajjud. As I make the niyaat, I can feel my head spinning a little less.

“Alhamdulillah hir Rabbil Aalamin, Ar Rahmanir Raheem…”

I feel his mercy upon me. Little by little, the pain from my chest starts to disappear. 

As I begin reciting Ayatul kursi, “Allahu La Ilaha Illa huah Al Haiyul kayyum, La tah khuzu hu sinatuwwala naom…” I feel calmer and more composed. All my fears go away.
“Ya Lamun ma bayyina aaidihim wa ma khalfahum…”
I regain my faith again, I know He has plans for me that won’t go in vain. He knows my past, present and future. Therefore in Him, I put my trust.
Then finally, when I go to sajda, all my tensions, ill feelings and worries go away. I see them falling from my forehead and settling down on the floor. Little by little, they disappear.

As I complete my second Rakaat, I start feeling so much better. All my tensions, anxieties, and worries have lessened. Medicines are not the answer to one’s contradictory thoughts.
I put my hands up for munajat.

“Rabbana Aatina Fid duniya Hasanatao, wafeel akhirauti hasanatao, wakeena azaaban naar.”

I cannot hold back my tears anymore. I tell Him — I tell Him of all that has gone wrong, my beloved who backstabbed me, my own dreams that remain shattered. I complain about the cruel world. I ask Him questions, why he took my loved ones so early, why he doesn’t give me the person I have been in love with forever. Why are all the hardships put in my way? Why me?

Five years later, I found all my answers.


Tayeba is a realist by day, and a dreamer by night.

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