By: Zayd Abdul Muqtadir
source:
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I remember my earliest thoughts of the time when I was convinced Islam was the Truth. I accepted it as reality, but was I ready to take the next step? That step to become a Muslim, to fully submit myself to Allah, The One, The Creator.
I went to East London Mosque, in Whitechapel. It was far away from my home town, so nobody will recognise me there. I wanted to testify that I was a Muslim. I didn’t think much of the consequences involved knowing that it will only set me back from accepting the Truth. To be honest, I was actually quite impulsive that day, I didn’t even intend to take my shahadah, I just saw this big beautiful mosque, and believed it to be a sign from the above. My ignorance then taught me that only an imam can take your shahadah, so I stepped into this mosque. Believe me I was scared. Paranoid also, what if somebody from my community sees me here? This is also the first ever time I’ve stepped into a mosque. Last opportunity I had was in Year 4 in Primary School, part of a school trip. I was only nine years old, I was a little Islamaphobe then myself, and got my mother to write me a sick note so I could avoid going. Deep breath. I walked in with my head down, not looking directly at anybody. The receptionist realised I was a little lost, and asked me if I was OK. I told him, I wanted to convert, and wanted to see the Imam. He just left moments ago, and will only return in an hour. I stormed out. Maybe this was a sign from the above too? A sign telling me not to accept this religion.
I wasn’t destined to embrace Islam. Not just yet.
I only turned sixteen a couple months before. It was not sacrificing my lifestyle that held me back from embracing this deen, but rather what my parents would have said, my father especially. Let’s just say he wasn’t the greatest fan of Muslims, he was open about that. Whenever we have family gatherings, it’s usually him that sparks the politics conversation amongst the men regarding the Muslims. I knew, I couldn’t have had both, I couldn’t have been a Muslim and be with my parents. It’s either I stay away from Islam, or I lose my parents. I chose my parents.
Prior to this, I used to wake up every morning and wait for mum and dad to go work, so I could read and listen to the Qu’ran. It was the most beautiful thing. It filled that emptiness that was within me with peace and serenity. I was addicted. I made sure not to have any books lying around, it was all E-books and internet sources.
I realized, as long as I read this Qu’ran, as long as I listened to the Words of Allah, asking me to come to the Truth, to come to this beautiful religion, I would eventually submit. But I couldn’t let that happen. My parents went through a hell of a lot to raise me. By me accepting Islam, I saw it as just stabbing them both in the back, I saw it as a betrayal.
I recall myself just walking up and down in my room like a mad man. Thinking. Thinking of all the possible outcomes. If I become Muslim, they will disown me. If I remain a Hindu, I will live the rest of my life living in falsehood, knowingly. How about if I wait, wait till I’m independent, till I have my own house, my own job and not living off my parents money. Maybe then, they’ll be more understanding, I would be old enough to make my own decisions. Yes. That’s final, I’m going to remain a Hindu until I’m independent, until then I’m going to stay away from Islam, I’m going to stay away from His Words, knowing full well that my intellect will only submit.
Weeks went by, filled with only emptiness. That once felt serenity and tranquillity, I didn’t feel no more. A part of me was missing. It constantly felt like the behaviour of a heavy smoker being held back from his nicotine fix. I was agitated. It is so true when they say, the heart is only at peace with the remembrance of Allah. I knew Islam wasn’t going to leave my soul. Its roots already laid its foundation inside me. I was only destroying myself by not letting it grow.
I remember thinking of the Hereafter, Hellfire and Paradise. If I died today, where was I going? How could I even dare to think that I’m going to live until I’m independent from my parents to embrace Islam, I had no guarantee that I was going to wake up the next day.
What most struck me was how selfish I was. How selfish could I be? I wanted Islam for myself. I didn’t even think to invite my parents to Jannah, it never crossed my mind. If I wanted to become a Muslim, I wanted to enter Paradise, but did I even think that I wanted my family there too?
How selfish could I be that I was in possession of the Truth and I didn’t even have the audacity to share it with those that I loved. Was this love sincere?
It’s then when I remembered a nightmare I had when I was young, probably around six years old. It’s probably the only nightmare I’ve had that made me rise out of bed, with cold sweat, one that I will remember for the rest of my life. It was set in another world, my mum, dad and brother are locked up in a big silver metal cage high above the ground. There was fire wherever I looked; it was fierce; hungry; fuming with rage, flames high as I’ve never seen before. There were devil-like figures present too, they looked like vampires, with its capes, ugly in nature. I stood on a safe ground. The ground was cool, secure from the violent flames. Above me was the cage which my family was locked up in. In desperation they were appealing, appealing to be released, trying to reach out to me with their hands. They were helpless, weak and vulnerable. I was confused, confused on how to release them from where I was standing.
As a very young lad, it had a deep impact on me. A child’s protector is usually his or her parents and very rarely do they call out for the help of the child.
I never understood the meaning of the dream until that day. I then realised, I’m an Ambassador of Islam to my family. It is only Allah that guides, but just like the Prophets were sent to groups of people, I’m sent to my family. InshaAllah that one day by the grace of Allah they be Guided. I’m still waiting for that day, and will never give up hope.
“O you who believe! Guard yourselves and your family against the Fire of Hell...” (Surah At-Tahrim Verse 5)
The next day, I woke up, I recited to myself, "Ash-hadu alaa ilaaha ilallah, wa ash-hadu anna Muhammad 'abduhu wa rasuluh".
