What does La Hawla wa La Quwwata illa billah mean? What magic do these words hold?
La Hawla wa La Quwwata illa billah- There is no power to do any good,nor any strength to abstain from evil,except from Allah.
All courage, came from Him alone. Only Him.Only Him.Only Him,remember that my dearest.
I tugged away from my mother’s grip and fell to my knees,the dust smearing my clothes. When my father drew his last breath,two lives ended on that day,his and mine as I knew it.
My father,my pillar of support,my warmth against the icy aloofness of my mother,my guide, the one who stayed up the nights when a fever wracked me,wiping my forehead with a damp cloth,the one who never grew tired of entertaining me as I would play on my swing,the one who was my friend to talk to in the sometimes loneliness of our sprawling farm,most of all the mornings we stayed up after Fajr,making dua together and him listening to me reading the Quran and correcting me. The laughter in his eyes when he joked with me,trying to let me know,I was special,even though I wasn’t a son.
“Johara,come bacchi,it will help you,I promise.”
My mother wanted me to visit my father’s grave. Why did she want to shove it in my face,just how my life,would never be the same.
I just couldn’t do it.
“Zulfikar said I can’t go past this point,but since youre small,you can go till just the gate.” And as she extended her hand,I knew she meant well & I shakily got to my feet. Clumsy with grief, I stumbled towards the resting place demarcated for my ancestors and spotted a fresh mound of sand.
My father lay under that! Under the ground! In that darkness! What if he didn’t die and they made a mistake& they suffocated him in the darkness of that sand.I remembered the worms that I found when digging and the thought that my father might be eaten up by them, made me dry heave.
I felt dizzy, my father was under that&there was no way he could get out or come back,he was never,ever coming back!!Ever!
I saw my mother’s face crumple with an indescribable sadness and all the weeks of being strong and somehow hoping,this was genuinely a nightmare,punched me in the recesses of my heart. With a silent scream,torn from every fibre of my being,I fell into the arms of a welcome darkness. I heard my mother scream,but I was too far gone. As the ground rose up to meet me,I felt light,at last.
“Johara?” I heard voices but didn’t care,this warm place of blackness,was too soothing,I didn’t want to come back. And I felt it tug me again. Happily I went under.
“Her fever,is well past danger point,it’s been a week, it’s a matter of touch and go Zulfikr,what are you going to do? They’ve sent a telegram that you will be fined for not being on duty,your leave is over.”
“And my Khala has shut her door since Friday and refused to come out,what will happen to this poor child? To both of them?”
“You have to make a choice.What will it be?”
“La hawla wa la quwwata illa billah,illa billah,illa billah.”