How I actually became a Muslim?

This script is written in reply to a message I received from my senior a week back. I am a sinner. I spread His message and I continue to sin. May Allah really make me a very strong and firm believer.  Ameen.

‘’I idealise you because you are so close to religion at such a young age. This blessing Allah does not bestow upon everyone. You are chosen by Him. Because He does not guide anyone unless you ask Him for guidance. I am very proud of you.’’

Just like every other Muslim, my journey with Islam began on the day when I was born to the most beautiful parents and inherited my religion. Not only did I get lucky with my religion being named Islam on my birth certificate, but I had also performed Umrah three times with my family by the time I was just eight.  One of the rituals that I enjoyed during performing Umrah used to be wearing a scarf on my head, because I somehow looked like my elder sisters who were my ideals then, and still are; this was followed up by touching the Kaaba which used to be a big mission without any vision- as I was a child; the last one was to pray occasionally and enjoy the steps of Namaz just because I used to be fascinated by the Imam’s voice whilst he used to lead the prayer.

The voice of the Imam makes me jump back to the day I took birth. Although I am sure that I would have been one of the cutest babies ever born-my pictures be the best proof, I was not that a pleasant news for my parents, as I was born with Cleft Palate due to which I could not consume my mother’s milk and my father had to struggle all night with his friend finding a suitable bottle feeder for me so that I can drink milk properly. However, I kind of made things complicated for myself. I was hardly a year when the only possible way to feed me milk was the view of a bird fluttering in the sky, for which I was taken to the balcony every day. In the process of searching for birds, my focus shifted to the sound of Azaan, so much so that the voice had to be recorded in a cassette tape for the sake of feeding milk to me. I grew up to be a very cranky child, so much so that my Uncle used to make me cry by saying that you are an “Angraiz” and do not belong to us and your mother left you at our doorstep and left for America.

Years passed by, and when the time to learn the Quran came, my parents made me sit with a friendly and fatherly Qaari Sahaab for three years who had gained good religious education from India. He is one of the wholehearted and best teachers who have taught me, and I realize that now. He made me learn all 99 names of Allah which I forgot over time. He made me finish the Holy Quran in a good Arabic accent which I did not value for years. He made me learn all the powerful Duas which I forgot day by day. He narrated several stories of the Quran which now I struggle to learn from YouTube, and every time he used to begin with a new one, I remember how I and my younger sister used to tell him that we only enjoy Yajuj Majuj, so it used to be followed by that one again. At that time, I used to be a bit disobedient and brought him on the verge of scolding me till I started feeling guilty and pour down tears. If life had a reverse button, my Qaari Sahaab would have been my best friend then.

Life was fun till I turned 13. I always wanted to stand first in the class- a position holder at least. When I first migrated to Pakistan, I took admission in a pure Pakistani board school. Oh! I still cannot forget how much I looked down upon my fellows because they did not know how to speak in English as I could. I hardly made three friends who could speak in English with me and used the rest for Urdu and Islamiyat lessons. After a year, I changed my school which was Cambridge system, and now I was in a better position to compete with all the students in the class. Despite being the most hardworking student in the class, I stood 4^th or 5^th, the most alluring fact of which is that I never scored high in English. I still have a “C” on my CIE report card. Even my best friends used to ponder over my grades. I tried my best and my last resort used to be “Wazifas”- pray 5 times a day, pray nafals, read this Surah ten times and call out Allah 313 times or whatsoever. This is how I was a Muslim. And it never helped my grades or put blessings in my hard work.

I ended up taking 60% marks in my Intermediate education, and became a student of Management Studies where I topped my batch in the first semester, despite the fact that I scored a “D” in Islamic Studies which I had to repeat before my graduation, but I never cared since I was proud to be a topper. I shifted to a better city in my second year of bachelors where I received more praises from my teachers and my classmates used to appreciate me for not looking like I come from a backward city in Pakistan. I was assigned numerous leadership roles and it boosted my confidence level. During that time, my sister and brother in law paid a visit to see us and they were blessed with a beautiful baby doll in those days. After a couple of days, my sister’s husband left and I became her room-mate for almost a month, due to which I had to listen to the Naats by Junaid Jamshed without which it was impossible for my niece to sleep. At first I was pretty annoyed at my brother and sister for making her habits so silly, but that was my first step to becoming a wholehearted Muslim. The words of those Naats struck my brain with every passing day and my heart started melting for the Love of Allah. I became a fan of Junaid Jamshed and music was no more enjoyable for me, I was still a fan of songs though.

Time slipped by and my second year was about to end, when I badly got stuck in a project and my senior lent me a helping hand. We became good friends and called me a little sister. One day, I was sitting with him in the campus and he took out his iPhone 3gs from his pocket, opened the app which read the English translation of the Holy Quran and I told him how impressive it was that somebody has time to read the translation of the Quran. He replied to me that it was nothing, just a translation, and how much he wished he could recite the Quran in Arabic since he was born in the UK. He talked about the problems he faced in life and beautifully quoted an Ayah (verse) which described his situation and helped him miraculously. I started envying him. I wanted to read the Quran too and this was a task to be completed in the Summer Break. I along with my younger sisters, went to the Liberty Books, and asked them to contribute equally to the English translation, since they might need to read it too, and I was not so close to Allah and His book that I would pay the full price. They contributed their share without quarrelling much and I got done with my task of giving it a read. But that was not the end, just a beginning. I was not enough for some reason and I wanted more of it. I chose to read the Urdu Tafseer and I did not mind Urdu for the first time, because I really wanted to understand the explanation. After campus re-opened, I had dyed my hair golden and girls appreciated me. But my friend bluntly told me that I looked way decent when I first came from my city and had a dupatta over my head. I started covering it and took it off when I came back to my city after a few months.

I had become way better than my classmates. I was a cut above all my seniors and juniors. I could never have behaved so arrogantly as I did till I reached my final year. During the last vacations that I got from my business school, my cousin had offered me to join some classes at Al Huda International near my house. I accepted the offer and I loved the experience of learning the Quran in detail by my professional teachers. By the end of my last semester, I took a proper Hijab covering my head strictly, but that never took away the arrogance from my heart though.

After my graduation, I stayed home for almost a year. I feel no shame in admitting that I slipped like never before during this duration. I got drowned into filthy acts and a phase came when I forgot Allah. And now after going through several emotional jolts and turning back to Him, I wondered as to where my prayers in the last Ramadan went since I lost my values right after that. It did not take a moment for me to click that all that phase that I went through has actually made me a stronger believer. Moreover, one thing I am sure of is that I have nothing to be arrogant of anymore. I am a sinner who repents. I have been called a hypocrite in the past and what not, but the first step to seeking guidance is that you realize the need for guidance. We often deceive ourselves by blaming the environment and culture for losing our spirituality, and the rise of the West and what not. But all those excuses get multiplied by zero when we get to listen to scholars like Nouman Ali Khan and Mufti Menk. The reason why they are being so hardworking and outstanding in their efforts is to counter all the challenges which make it difficult to practice the religion but their advices have really put a big cross on all our excuses.

Till now, I used to worry not to speak about Islam much since I might look like a hypocrite or a person who is showing off with her religious knowledge. But spreading good word is our responsibility as Muslims and we all should do it without any reservation. Yes, I am a sinner and I have slipped many times, but I will continue to repent and please Him. I am an ordinary Muslim who has missed Fajr even today. May Allah accept the good from me and all of you. Ameen.

Allah says:

§  (Iblees (Satan)) said: "O my Lord! Because you misled me, I shall indeed adorn the path of error for them (mankind) on the earth, and I shall mislead them all.

§  "Except Your chosen, (guided) slaves among them" (Quran, al-Hijr: 39 – 40).