I HAVE a friend. A Russian friend. Let’s refer to her as Sister S. I met her only recently, but she has already become one of those people who are so dear to me, mostly because of her role in the…

No wait, let me rewind and start at the beginning.

I live in a Muslim country and as a consequence, my university has a masjid. Not just any prayer room that qualifies for a mosque, but an actual masjid, complete with the little crescents (an innovated ideology, yes-but let’s not go there)[1] at the top of the dome and minaret, plus a full-time Imam. The brothers pray on the carpeted ground floor, and the sisters climb up a spiral staircase to the floor above-the ladies’ section.

In this Masjid, an hour before and an hour after the Dhuhr prayer, if you climbed up to the sister’s section, you’ll see a group of girls sitting in a circle, talking in hushed voices. They do not talk just about anything, mind you. They speak of Allah, His Book (the Qur’an), His angels, Jannah and Jahannam, the Last Day. Yes, at this masjid, at these times, there are private halaqas. 

Private, because they’re exclusive; although entry to these gatherings aren’t restricted by any physical barrier, only those who possess an invitation from ar-Raheem, who may be contacted anytime, may enter, may sit and be a part of that blessed circle. A circle from which the angels ascend to the Throne of the Most Gracious, informing Him of the occurrence of such a virtuous gathering (although He knows best). Only those who have been selected by the Rabb-ul-‘Alameen may join the seekers of truth, the seekers of knowledge, at these halaqas. Only they may draw knowledge from the hearts and minds of those speakers by means of their own eager hearts and minds.

This brings me back to Sister S.

Recently, she’s been visiting the masjid more frequently than ever. In her thickly accented English, she would ask questions at the halaqas about issues that bothered her curious mind. Unfortunately, although the speakers at these halaqas are gifted with knowledge, they are not Sheikhas. They can’t respond, or are afraid to, to the more complex ones, but the simpler ones they try answering. The simple queries are those she would normally ask. So much so that I concluded that she was a new Muslimah, a convert to this beautiful faith of ours.

The other day, she asked if she could give me her iPod, that I may upload a few surahs onto it, so that she may know some to recite in her Salah. A few days afterwards, after the adhan for Dhuhr had been called out, I asked her if she knew the du’aa to be recited after the adhan, not to deride her; rather, so that we may do it together if she did not know. Her reply broke my heart, and made me gaze at her in wonder. She said, “I only know one du’aa.” And then she recited, with only little difficulty,

يَا مُقَلِّبَ الْقُلُوبِ ثَبِّتْ قَلْبِى عَلَى دِينِكَ

This beautiful du’aa, when translated means, “O Turner of the hearts (Allah, the Most Gracious) keep our hearts firm on Your religion.”[2] In my silence I marveled at how wonderful a du’aa to start with. I was awed by the wisdom of the one who had taught her that du’aa to begin with. Allahu Akbar.

My thoughts shifted to what I knew of her. I would often find her praying in line with the rest of the Jamaa’ah, not just anywhere, but in the first row of the congregation. If she was on her way to the library, or any place on campus, and heard of a halaqa going on in another area, she would turn and head straight for the halaqa. She wore the hijab. Her dedication and commitment to what I believed to be her new faith amazed me. My curiosity and keenness to know more about her increased, to the extent that I found myself, at the end of prayer one afternoon, crawling over to where she sat on the carpet counting on her fingers and moving her lips to what I assumed to be the post Salah zikr. We spoke for a while, and then I asked her if she has always been Muslim, or if she was new to the faith. What she said next proved me…

…wrong! Completely and totally wrong. SubhanAllah, turned out she had indeed always been Muslim. She went on to explain that she had never really been practicing, though. Her parents practiced, but they never forced her to. She just stuck to the Russian customs she had learned. Her admission of all of this didn’t demean her in any way. She wore the hijab, I mused. She knew only one du’aa, barely any Surahs, but she still donned the headscarf. She didn’t wait until she learned more to do what she knew was incumbent upon her. She barely knew about Islam, but what she did know, she practiced. What excuses do we then, I pondered, who’ve always known what our religion entails, have for delaying putting our knowledge into action? Do we dare wait for an epiphany by means of which we imagine we’ll turn holy overnight? What if it never comes? And in all honesty, how many people lose out by waiting for the right time? Is this a gamble worth taking?

And Allah says,

“Has not the time come for the hearts of those who believe (in the Oneness of Allâh - Islâmic Monotheism) to be affected by Allâh's Reminder (this Qur'ân), and that which has been revealed of the truth, lest they become as those who received the Scripture [the Taurât (Torah) and the Injeel (Gospel)] before (i.e. Jews and Christians), and the term was prolonged for them and so their hearts were hardened? And many of them were Fâsiqûn (the rebellious, the disobedient to Allâh). (Qur'an, 57:16)

What guarantee have you, O Muslim(ah), that you will pull out of the abyss of darkness, and come out victorious, glowing? Why wait for inspiration to strike you? How long do you plan on waiting, really? If you do indeed want to be of the chosen few Allah has selected to admit into his Jannah, then also know that it is incumbent upon you to take the first step. Yes, just the first step. It could be a wobbly little inch forward, but once you’ve taken this first step, know that Allah will suffice you, and support you the rest of the way. You’re doing this for Him; He won’t make it hard on you.

What are you afraid of? The scathing remarks of people? People who will most likely desert you on the day when there will be no aid except for the Help of Allah?

One of the tactics Shaytaan most fondly uses is procrastination. He’s tried and tested this with us humans since the beginning of creation; won’t he know how best it should be employed if maximum benefit or harm, if we go by his wicked agenda is to be obtained? You, O sister of belief, waiting to become engaged so you may wear the hijab, are unwittingly falling prey to this plot of his. Brother of faith, what are you anticipating for in order that you may grow your beard? You too are becoming victim to his wicked conspiracies, did you know?

Both of you wait until you’re older to do rudimentary acts of goodness. How exactly do you define old age? Is it what you refer to the few final years of your life? If that is so, you could be old right now, for all you know of your time on earth.

As your eyes (and heart, I hope) read this, know that you still have a chance. You can still reflect on your past and go back to Him. His doors of Mercy are open to you now, as your chest lifts with every breath you take. As for afterwards, I possess no such guarantee. But I have this for you: Don’t wait for tomorrow. You don’t know it will come.