Leaves In The Wind. Chapter 10

Bismillah

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?”

Silence.

“La hawla  wa la quwwata illa billah,illa billah,illa billah.”

 

 

 

 

 

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5 Comments Add yours

  1. dynamite786 says:

    And that I guess is one of the reasons ladies are not allowed to enter graveyards.
    Z @ https://leakingoutsometears.wordpress.com/

    1. i love that lol,even though she’s a kid,the emotions of a female,from small,tends to be more sensitive. InshaaAllah will cover more on the prohibition of women from entering the graveyards

      1. dynamite786 says:

        Very true especially at those tween years. Can’t wait

  2. Sister in islam says:

    Is the blogger alive???

    1. err,yes. taking the hint,will post inshaaAllah

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