In memory
of a
cherished blossom
By Asma Shaikh
I
sit with a heavy heart to write this piece,
yet there seems to be an engaging quality
about writing that transports one into an
altogether surreal world as the words are
penned. The eyes shed strings of tears in
memory of someone who left glittering footsteps
on the well-trodden path of life, leaving behind a
swirling mist of nostalgic memories that do not
seem to end.
My grandma was a woman par excellence. Small
and petite, she was the very embodiment of
humility and endless service to the creation of
Allah I. She carried a heart of go ld, a heart that
held the sorrows of many with compassion, that
sailed through storms with forbearance, that
exuded warmth and love to the young and old.
I can still picture her in the mind’s eye, patiently
lending an ear to a school janitor, listening
attentively to her myriad of life’s problems. No
malice and hatred invaded her heart; never a
word spoken in disparaging remarks for anyone.
Her soft tones for those in distress soothed many
a dismal hearts.
We were little, and she would take us to the
zoo, or a theme park, or just for a cool glass of
plain sugarcane juice tinted with ginger in the
summers. A word would but escape our mouths
and she would fulfill what our little hearts
desired. She unflinchingly cared for every single
one of her grandchildren.
She was a woman adorned with Hayaa (modesty),
resolute in veiling what Allah bestowed on her
from His creation of beauty; never an uncalled
for step taken in front of a stranger, never a
raised voice; her bashful gaze always lowered in
obedience to Allah .
She would line her wise eyes with kuhl for
Asma Shaikh is a student of ‘Aalimiyyah at Nur ul Ilm Academy. She is a teacher who is very passionate about
teaching, and her students are indebted to her for the beautiful way she passes on the sacred knowledge.
NISBAH 50