A set of fictional stories protraying how beautiful Islam, our way of life is...

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Salawat nu duudh (Salawat Milk)

Disclaimer: The following story is not fictional

It’s strange that one action by a stranger, one whose name you may not remember a few years down the lane or how they looked or where they lived but what they did stays with you forever.

“Chalo chalo chaldi chalo, time for Salawat nu duudh”.(Hurry! Let’s go its time for Salawat Milk) Yes, It was 4 o’clock in the evening and the bunch of us: five to ten kids around five to ten years old rushed to the alley where the lady, who gave Salawat nu duudh lived.

I was five. I didn’t really know how to say the whole salwaat, but I rushed. Along with my elder sister we climbed the 16th century wooden steps of an old stone building most probably built by Arabian spice traders. It was a modest stone structure near the harbor in the old town.

I know we called her ______ aunty. Honestly, I have forgotten her name. Every evening she would get one liter of milk, boil it, add sugar and rose syrup in it and while we all waited in line for the delicious milk as she cooled in a large plate (or may be I thought it was large as I was so small)

She would then take out small glass glasses and pour the sweet baby pink milk. We would cover our heads with our scarves and recite the Salawat. I would just mumble along with the other girls and boys and finally, my hands would grip the glass and it was and will always be, the best milk I would have.

At that time I was too young to comprehend what or why or understand the Salawat. All I knew was the aunty was doing a good deed by giving us milk. She would do it all the ten days of Moharram.

Moharram is the first month of the Arabic calendar. This month, the grandson of the Prophet, Imam Husain sacrificed himself and his whole family in the deserts of Karbala, Iraq. He vowed never to give his hand in allegiance to a tyrant such as Yazid who drank wine, committed adultery and killed Muslims. Imam Husain knew that if He, the grandson of the Holy Prophet gave in to the cruel and unjust rule of Yazid, Yazid would not only destroy the tenants of Islam that the Holy Prophet had struggled for, but take the Muslims back to the period of ignorance. On the tenth day of Moharram, Imam Husain was Shaheed along with his sons, his nephews, his brother and his true companions. Wars have come and gone, battles lost and heroes exalted but none is remembered as Imam Husain, who fought a spiritual war against a tyrant and was not afraid to sacrifice his life for it.

Today, a fifth century later, I understand the sacrifice of Imam Husain, and I understand the Salawat. And as I do, I thank the lady who used to give us Salawat nu duudh. I don’t know whether she is still alive or not. I don’t remember the way to her house either. But yes, whenever I make any sweet milk, pink or yellow, as I give it to my husband and inshaAllah in future to my kids, I say “Salawat nu duudh” (Pray Salawat and drink)

Salawat is an Arabic word that means sending your greetings to the Prophet (SAW) and his progeny. We say the words:

“O Allah, send your Peace and Blessings to Prophet Mohammed(SAW) and his decedents and also Prophet Ebrahim and his decedents spread throughout this world. For You Allah, are the most Praiseworthy, Glorious.”

Salawat in other words is a tiny prayer where one sends their salutations to our beloved prophet and his progeny. At the same time praising our Lord, Hamidun Majeed.