The twisted faith

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The twisted faith

By: Ameen Misran

edited by: Ummutaki 

            I took a long look at my speedometer before slowing down; I was driving at 145 kph in a 110 zone. From a distance, I saw a police road-block.

“Yeah, I’m going to get busted again” I murmured. It’s the fourth time in 8 months. How could a lecturer get caught so often?!

I slowed down my car as the queue slowed down. A policeman wearing white gloves waved his hand. He asked me to pull over at the left side of the road. I waited there for a while; the cop was a bit busy. “Let the cop worry about the potential traffic hazard; maybe some other cars will tweak his backside making him forget about his ‘earlier prey’,” I made some false assumptions. Well, the cop did not forget. I could see him make his move towards me.

            “Is that Ali? I can’t believe it’s him?” I told myself as I watched him approach me.  Ali is my neighbour, my friend and my companion.  Ali is a much respected person. Although we have been exposed by the news that you can’t trust a cop because of they are involved in corruption, etc, but Ali was absolutely out of the fitnah.  

            I sunk farther into my ‘security’ coat. This was worse than the coming fine! Shame was all over my body! An obedient Muslim cop catching his closest friend on a road we never met before. This guy was scheduled to play cricket with me tomorrow.

Looking at the side mirror I saw the man whom I meet every Friday, approached me, getting closer to me each and every step he took. I he'd never seen him in uniform before. “This is the result of being too anxious of getting home after a long day at the office; I didn’t even remember Allah along the way” I blamed myself.

"Assalamualaikum akhi, fancy meeting you like this," I started the conversation with a shiver.

"Waalaikumssalaam, Ameer." He replied with no smile.                           

"Guess you caught me red-handed in a rush to see my wife and kids," trying to soften the heart of the policemen.

"Yeah, I guess,” still no smile carved in his face.

Ali seemed uncertain. I didn’t know why he was like unsure of something. But maybe it is a good opportunity not to get ticketed. Then he spoke:

“Have you ever pondered what ALLAH has said:

‘And if you only could see when the mujrimun shall hang their heads before their Lord (saying): Our Lord!! We have now seen and heard, so send us back (to the world), that we will do righteous good deeds, verily!! We now believe with certainty.’ [1]

These men asked Allah to place them back on earth for the second chance in order for them to perform ibadah. But did Allah give them the second chance they requested? Do you understand what I’m saying, Ameer? You’ve done something wrong against the law.”

I dropped my head down ashamed of myself, my blood pressure is rising. Hugh...!! I wish I have never been born!

"I know what you mean. Ok…ok...Alright already; put the blame on me." My anger was starting to control me.

Oops! This was not going in the right direction, time to change tactics.

"What was my speed?"I asked softly while unfastening the seat-belt.

"At 145, you could kill somebody, would you sit back in your car, sir?" He was starting do get serious as he saw me as if picking a fight with him.

"Now wait a minute there, Ali. I checked as soon as I saw you. I was barely nudging 115." My voice grew louder while getting out of the car. The lie did not seem to work.

"Please, Ameer, in the car, please."

Frustrated, I hunched myself through the still-open door. Slamming it shut, I stared at the dashboard. I was in no rush to open the window. The minutes ticked by. Ali scribbled away on the book pad. He took quite look to prepare a ticket I thought.

“Why hadn't he asked for a driver's license?” My little heart voiced out. Whatever the reason might be, it would be a month before I ever sat near this cop again in the mosque.  

Then, a tap on the door jerked my head to the right.

There was Ali, a folded paper in hand. I rolled down the window a mere two inches, giving Ali just enough room to pass me the slip.

"Thanks." I could not quite keep the scorn out of my voice. Ali returned to his patrol-car without a word.

I watched his retreat in the mirror. Bye...bye!

“Huh…” bursting air out of my mouth. I unfolded the sheet of paper. How much was this one going to cost?

“Wait a minute. What was this? Is this some kind of joke!?” It was certainly not a ticket. I began to read:

Dear Ameer,

Once upon a time I had a daughter. She was six when killed by a car. The same tragedy took my mother away. Guess who did it? A speeding driver! He was only fined and given three months jail, but the man was freed. Free to hug his three daughters and his mother! But I only had one daughter, and my mother is irreplaceable. I have to wait till heaven before I can ever hug them again. It’s hard you know. It’s hard to leave someone you love. Thousand times I've tried to forgive that man. A thousand times I thought I had. Maybe I had, but I need to do it again.  

Until now, pray for me. And be careful. My son is all I have left.

P/s: Go back home and search for these two hadiths it may be useful for you:

-          Bukhari. Book 8.  Volume 76. Hadith 430

Ali

Masyallah! I was speechless!

My eyes were brimming with tears, and then I cried, I cried deeply. It has been a while since I haven’t felt this way. My heart has hardened. I said to myself “If Allah took my life just now when I forgot all about HIM, will HE accept me? Will I enter Jannah? What about my family? Will my wife and kids pray for me to enter Jannah?” 

I twisted around to see Ali's car. No sign of his car anywhere. “May Allah bless your life Ali” I whispered. I pulled away and drove slowly home.

When I got home and unlocked the door, my wife gave me a strange look.  “Maybe she saw my eye-bags” I said to myself.

“What happened to-“ I hugged her before she could finish her words. It was a deep hug. Again, my tears went overflowing. But when I held close my son, I cried even greater.

            “Son, do you know where I put my books of hadith? I asked my son.

            “The same place you left it dad,” he said with a grin.

            “Oh, mashaallah...” I forgot that I haven’t touched it for a long time already.

            Took a ladder, I climbed to the attic. Opened an old dusty box filled with many books. I searched for Sahih Bukhari.

            After taking out the books in the big box one by one, the book is finally found. It was located at the bottom of compilation of the books. The book was still in good condition as it is tucked tight well protected in the box.

I took out the love letter given by Ali this evening. Following the reference of the hadith Ali gave me, the first hadith Bukhari. Book 8.  Volume 76. Hadith 430. It took me quite a long time to locate the hadith. It says:

Narrated Anas bin Malik:


Allah's Apostle said, "The son of Adam (i.e. man) grows old and so also two (desires) grow old with him, i.e., love for wealth and (a wish for) a long life." [2]

Astaghfirullah! I’ve really grown old and I really do love wealth and I really am afraid to die! Wealth has made my heart hardened! Possessions have made me forget who I am? If I was really killed while speeding today, am I prepared before Allah?”

            “Honey! Dinner time!” My wife called me.

            “Ok Sweet heart, coming!” I shouted back.

            Took out my mobile phone, and typed a text message.

Akhi, Jazakallah khair for the “love letter” you gave me earlier...You’ve made me remember... J

Delievered to:
Ali Mujahid
0135041501

One minute after that he replied.

Ajmain...Life is precious... It is a gift from ALLAH...Don’t take it for granted...Handle it with care... J

Sender:
Ali Mujahid
0135041501

            As I touched the ground from the ladder, I’m no longer the same person! Allahuakbar!

---

[1] Holy Quran. Surah Sajdah. Verse 12

[2] Bukhari. Book 8.  Volume 76. Hadith 430