How I made my choice

I saw him walk into the masjid, as I picked up the Holy Quran to read. His beard was long and white – a sign of wisdom and age. He was very thin; I guess with age, one tends to loose body mass. He walked in slowly and humbly, his back bent slightly. It showed that he had carried so many years in his life and was returning back to weakness, as Allah Taala had described to be one of His signs of how He created man: from strength to weakness.

“Assalam Alaykum” he greets all the faithful gathered in the masjid for fajr namaz. “Walyakumus salam” we return his greetings. I get up and help him lay his masala. .. He pats me on my back like a father. He is always happy to see me. His name is Mustafa, he must be approaching eighty, yet his heart seems younger than me. He would make us laugh narrating incidents of how he would forget many things. Once he passed the bathroom and saw the latch was undone. He latched it and went in search of his wife. He wanted some hot tea. When he couldn’t find her, he got very anxious and went out of the house. She too was old and aged like him and he worried about her. “Where is she! Oh where has she gone!” he trembled with fear. He came back home to call the police when he heard someone knocking at the bathroom door. He opened it and alas! His wife! She looked at him accusingly with a towel in her hand. He was so relieved to see her that he hugged her right there! We all laughed at his sweet innocence. I can imagine how she would have been shocked. To be locked and then shown so much affection.

I call him nanaji (grandfather) and her nanima (grandmother). I know she has also come for prayers. She would be behind in the ladies wing. Both of them have come together for as far as I could remember. While I was a child, I would see them go for every namaz to the masjid. Today I smile. I have never seen a more adorable couple than them. I am eighteen, a young man; I have also begun to think of a life partner. When I look at nanaji and nanima, I can’t help but pray that I get a pious wife like nanima.

He starts his prayer as I begin my reading and soon the imam comes and we pray the dawn prayer. Imam Sahib knows about nanaji and how weak he is, so he is slow while bowing down and getting up. Nanaji was that kind of a man, he would win the hearts of everyone. All wanted to go out of their way to help him. The children adored him. They would come and sit in his lap, pull his beard and he would jokingly admonish them “Be careful! It took me eighty years to grow it.”

We finish our namaz and he turns to me and smiles. “So my young boy, what is going on with you?” he asks. I tell him the good news about my results. He pats me on my back and congratulates my father who is sitting nearby. “Get me some sweets. But don’t tell my wife. I swear she is a police woman in plain clothes!” I can’t help but smile. “What do you plan to do now?” That was a good question because I had too many options and no inclination. I was good in everything, Alhamdullilah. I had topped Maths and Science, I managed an A on my languages. Father wants me to be a doctor and mother, an engineer. “What do you want?” he pry’s looking at me with intelligent eyes. “I want to be like you”, I replied. Where did that come from! It was then I realized that truly I wanted to be like this pious man. He did not possess the riches of the world. He has a nice little home; he had lived a simple life all along, had worn simple clothes, ate simple food and had a simple loving wife. Yes, I wanted to be him.

He laughs and is amused to a great extent. He pats me on my back and tells me he prays I be better than him.

We go ahead with our discussion on all the options I had – Harvard, Oxford, IIT-Delhi, Islamic University of Malaysia and University of Nairobi. It had been a long process of applications, essays, recommendations and interviews. The tough part was now- what should I take up. My heart wasn’t inclined to any particular one.

“What kind of life do you want to lead?” he asked me. I thought for a few seconds and then replied “I want to live a good life. I want to earn so that in future I can provide for my family and children but most importantly, I want to make sure that my obligation towards my Lord is not violated. I am scared that once I leave home to an unknown country, a different culture, I will loose my roots, my devotion and look towards the world and its pomp. I am scared that I might not get to pray in congregation with my brothers and God forbid, what if I miss my prayers because I am in class or I have an exam or I’m just too busy. What if I loose this feeling of closeness with my Lord?”

He smiled at me and told me something I am sure I will never forget. “Years ago, I was young too. I know its hard to imagine because you’ve seen me old and grey since you were a child” he laughs “But I was young and quite handsome. Your nanima was in school with me. We used to sit together in class two and we had our share of fights, especially when I broke her sharpener from India. Oh yes, she had cried and cried that day. Well anyways, by the time we finished school, she went away to Nairobi for her degree and I felt exactly what you are feeling today. I didn’t want to leave home. I was happy, content here. My mother wanted me to be a doctor. Those days, doctors were in demand and I had to travel to USA. It was a tough choice but I didn’t. I didn’t want to be a doctor. I wanted to be a businessman. Like our beloved prophet. My parents were disappointed, but I convinced them that it was what I wanted. I started my small shop. I would get goods from India and China and sell them here. In the evenings, I would go to a commerce college and learn accounting. I had my share of falls. It was those falls that taught me how to rise. In four years, while my friends were graduating, I had by the grace of God, a running business. I decided to get married. I was twenty two. In my heart I always wanted to marry your nanima. I was however, realistic. She was a college graduate; she had seen the world, met smarter men than me, why would she choose to marry a simple trader when she had the better choice. One day I saw her in masjid. She had returned from college. She was very smart. Actually I am smarter..Hehe.. But she was the dedicated types. I had heard she had done well and had got a first class. She was wearing a white veil and was the prettiest thing I had ever seen. She was with her friends waiting for her family. I approached her; I didn’t know whether she would remember me. At best may be as the monster who broke her sharpener. When she saw me, she smiled. “You! So what did you make of yourself, you destroyer.” I laughed. I told you, that sharpener was her life. Women can be so silly at times. I told her I was a trader, a businessman. “o.k.” she said. She wasn't impressed, I knew. Had I been a lawyer or a doctor, she would have been like ‘Wow, that’s great’, so well; I left my hope of ever asking for her hand. The second time I met her, was in the market. She was buying fruits and I had come to deliver some goods to my customers. “Oh, the great businessman is here” she said smilingly as she saw me. I was nervous. I was no longer eight. I just smiled at her. She waited for me to say something but I didn’t and she walked away. ‘She’s just being friendly’ I thought. Now that she was home, she would come to the masjid for namaz. When we were children we used to go with our parents, after namaz we would run outside and all of us would play catch and catch or blind man. Those were the days. I heard rumors about many suitors wanting to propose to her. That discouraged me more for I realized they were better ones – more educated, and they would give her a better life than I would have.

One day after a majalis, I came out of the masjid and I saw her standing in the courtyard with her family. My father was talking to her father so I went and joined him. While the parents were discussing something about an offer on the air tickets to India, we children started talking about school and how we used to have fun. “Do you know you never did pay for breaking my sharpener” she told me with mischief in her eyes. I laughed. “You can now.”, she said. I looked up. Oh God, why did I ever do that! “O.k., tell me, how do I pay you?” “Will you marry me?” she asked me seriously. I just stared at her. May be she was pulling my leg. “You are kidding me?” I told her unbelieving. “No, I am quite serious”, she turned and pointed towards our parents, “If you say yes then we can tell our parents now itself”. A million things ran in my mind. I was happy I broke that sharpener, I couldn’t believe from all the men she could choose, she chose me. Why! She had the nerve to ask me! “O.k.” I accepted. That is how my dear child, I got the wife I wanted. Later on, after our nikah, she told me that she choose me for the good Muslim I was. She didn’t want someone with fancy designation or fancy house. She wanted me and a small home. I believe I have managed to give her that.

You may be wondering why I told you all this. I just wanted to give you a new perspective. I see youngsters running after big degrees and working day in and day out ignoring their families and their religious duties. I don’t say, don’t work hard. Hard work is essential but don’t override other duties in quest for money and position. Young men think a woman wants money and her husband to be someone fancy, but there are girls out there who look for a good heart. You will find one too. God willingly.

I’m glad you think the way you do. You don’t want to compromise on your religious duties. Going to college, doesn’t necessarily mean you will have to. InshaAllah, you will find good muslim friends and you all can be the support of one another. I will pray that you choose the one that is best for you.

Now, if you will excuse me, your grandmother would be waiting outside tapping her shoe. God knows what she will make me do in payment” he winked as he got up.

I smiled. Talking to nanaji made my heart light. I had listened with attention to what he had told me. The choice he made. After thinking for a while and praying for guidance. I had decided. I too wanted to be a trader. Just like my beloved prophet. I would select Islamic University of Malaysia for my studies in commerce and management and InshaAllah after that, I would start my own firm. In what and where, I will leave it to time. I put my trust in Allah, my Lord, and I know as I move on, with His guidance, I will find my way. I bowed down and thanked my Lord for sending nanaji for me. I would not have felt so tranquil in making my decision if it hadn’t been for his story.

As I got up, I couldn’t help but wish, I had broken someone’s sharpener. :-)