السلام عليكم ورحمةالله وبركاتة

Web Site of Mohammed Ismail Eliat

Let the secrets of my heart be shared with every one. ‘I have lots more to say unto you’

About Ismail! Best Viewed in Microsoft Internet Explorer
My Autobiography...MY ARABIAN YEARS
The Reality.
The Pleasures of Jannah
Remember the last day
Traveller's Tale
Web page of Saliha

About Ismail

Narrated Ubadah ibn as-Samit Allah's Messenger (peace be upon him) said: The first thing which Allah created was Pen. He commanded it to write. It asked: What should I write? He said: Write the Decree (al-Qadr). So it wrote what had happened and what was going to happen up to eternity. (Transmitted by Tirmidhi)

The events of life comes in disparity to coach us the lessons of nature, so that we understand the meaning of this temporary worldly life and give our thoughts for the endless life that await before us. So that we understand the blessings of our Lordr and we may be thankful towards Him. Thus the poems of life may be written on the parchment of time before the angel of death carries our soul towards heaven closing the chapter of life forever here.

We are now the living and we understands the value of life. A little while, the Day when the Caller will call out from a place quite near we have no more chance to pile up for that eternal life. So think while before the soul is snatched out of you while you are unaware, before the very reality exposes before our very eyes.

Ok, this is My webpage. I am going to write all that rolls up in my mind through the tips of the pen. The rubbish and significant alike. Read them. If you feel something good in them give me your comments, I would be happy to know your opinions and be advised. Believe me, I believe in free thoughts. You are slave of none and you shouldn’t be. What is there for worry when our Lord is the one who is most Merciful! I know I am a thousand times sinner than anyone and I borrow the words of Saade Sheerazi.

O bountiful One, who from thy invisible treasury

Suppliest the Guebre and the Christian with food,

How could'st thou disappoint thy friends,

Whilst having regard for thy enemies?

Back

Arabian Years

Mohammed Ismail Eliat

VOL-I

This is my prayer to Thee, my Lord- Strike, Strike at the root of penury in my heart.

Give me the strength lightly to bear my joys And sorrows.

Give me the strength to make my Love fruitful in service.

Give me the strength never to disown the poor or bend my knees before insolent might.

Give me the strength to rise my mind - high above daily trifles.

And give me the strength to surrender my strength to Thy Will and Love.

Rabindranath Tagore

I dedicate my booklet to the one who has come to share my life,

The virgin of my life, one who stares at me with the tender heart and with loving smile,

To Fathima Safeera (one who doesn’t understand a bit of English).

Introduction

The sun still lay hidden behind the mountain peaks, peaks behind peaks looked like a blue line drawn against the blue bright sky, the breath of heaven and the birds sung their melodies songs cooling the inner hearts, far behind the days horizon revealed some thing unusual., as if the nature wants to give a glad tiding, slowly and slowly the sun rose from the east brightening the whole world and set in the west. The sixth of November 1977 had yet to speak to the world many more tales, and the very day was Ismail born.

Accordingly, their goes the myth regarding my birth. To be most authentic my mother gave birth to me in her home. Wherever be, I was born.

My Child Hood.

Day by day I float my paper boats one by one down the running stream. In big letters I write my name on them and the name of the village where I live. In the night when I go to bed and sleep, I dream, my boats floating through the stream of far away lands, the fairies carrying them all their way.

The earliest of my memories goes to my life in Eliat house. Little do I remember of my early child hood days, still I have in mind many of the unforgettable incidents, I remember them all like a dream I had, as every man in his life will have beautiful stories of his childhood to narrate, unforgettable for man is his child hood days

I spent my child hood days in Eliat House, Eliat House is our family little home, it stands facing the large paddy fields, fields covered with coconuts, mango groves and other trees. The house looks beautiful in its old and the rotten manner. The whole scenario is seen if looked from the waranda, we see the far away mountains and the far away valleys. Still if we look upwards, we see the blue bright sky laden with clear white clouds. The voice of my Grandma and the children always echoing. Along with them sand the little birds and squirrels. Still there was always the calmness of a village. All these features makes Eliat look esteemed in its pride and beauty, as if some where in the valleys that are always silent, some where, far away from the earthly clamours that went by, nor heard of the noises that goes in cities, always silent, calm and quiet. This is my Eliat house, the tiny little home, rotten and the very beautiful, From my father to Grandfathers are grown and breathed their last in the same little home. Its history travels to the most ancient. For its tales and stories are untold and unheard by those outside. Behind the house is a large canal, the stream flowing always in...

Eliat was my hearts desired place. Sometimes my mother’s family would come and pick me to Thodannur where my other house is located. I won’t stay there a long. I cry and fight to be back to Eliat. There I have the rolls and the tyres. Friends and playmates. The days went by ‘Kotti’ playing and ‘thalama’ the village games. As it gets darkened, Ummama is seen in the Varanda reciting her recitations. I would sleep with granma beside her bed. There was Asma, Hafzath and all those the children of my uncle.

There was a wooden bridge in front lanes of Eliat house and a small lake beside. We would sit hours fishing with sticks and hooks. The most adventurous incident was once crossing the bridge there came a dog from the opposite side. I too was crossing from the other side. I kicked the dog out the bridge and I did my task. Of course a daring thing.

Education

My lower primary schooling were at an school near by-called ‘Paramal Mappila School , a very old school, also an ancient monument, during heavy rain the school declares a holiday in fear of collapse. it was that old. Some times you may even witness snakes and other creatures crawling on the roofs, for the school was natural and looked beautiful in its own. I remember my teachers, Balash Mash, Moosa Moilar. Moosa Mouilar was too strict, he used to terrify us saying that he would hang all of us if not studied or remove our clothes, I had four years of Madrasa also nearby the school.

Now and then I used to go to my mother’s house ‘Parambath’, a few hours walk from Eliat, I almost hated going there and mostly would refuse going. Eliat was the place my heart always loved, though the reason I never knew, my heart always desired to be there. After my four years of Primary Education was over, parents sent me to an hostel nearby named ’B.M.S’, the life in it was fully different, my new school ‘Memunda High School ‘ also a historic monument where my fathers and great fathers are said to have studied. It was only a stones throw from the hostel. At first the life in hostel almost seemed to me like in jail but soon it turned out to be a heaven for living, with so many comrades, friends and play mates, pleasant food. But only an year I stayed in that good hostel, I had to leave there for good reasons, Indeed for a good reason .That was because we were told that we were going to Makkah.

Makkah, perhaps known to me from the beginning, perhaps from the very beginning , it is a place heard from every where, through the tips of my mother, In Madrasas we study, and at least I knew one thing, it was the birth place of our Loved Nabi (Sallallahu Alaihi wa Sallam) but never knew where it was or how we would reach there.

It was during the months of Ramazan I first heard of this news from brother, but in those child hood days understood little of the matters that were going around and the next I can remember is only of my departure.

My Journey’s Begin

It was on an Eid day, the days of Ramazan and the fasting have just come to an end. In the morning of our departure we dressed well and specialized a jeep from ‘Eliat’ and went directly to Thodannur, land of my mother. We prayed the Eid prayer at the Thodannur Big Mosque, we had our lunch in ‘Parambath’ gee rice and chicken curries were the special, exactly at three-o-clock a specialised jeep arrived and we were to live for the station, we bid our final salaam to all those who stood in lane on the edges of the paddy fields, at about half an hour after we reached Badagara Railway Station, there was many of relatives already waiting for us, we all including Pokerka, Majeedka and Hameedka bid to others salaam, none expressed any emotions or any thing such like, for all knew our journey was for a few days. Every one hoped they would soon see us again. But who in the dream would have thought that our’s was a journey though the span of eight years, none neither we nor those who bid farewell to us.

By nine-o-clock in the night we reached Kasaragod and then to Vidyanagar where we spent our night. The next day in the early morning I, Umma, bother, little sisters, Pokerka and Majeedka set for the railway station. Aishammai with Sumayya was also with us, she was at that time only a babe.

Soon we reached Mangalore Station and shifted to another train to Bombay. The journey to Bombay was indeed pleasing, beautiful sites and several tonnels were seen throughout the journey, after two days sitting in train we reached Bombay, for the night Uncle took a lodge and for the dinner-Chicken fry and Porata.

In the early next morning we set out for Bombay Airport, our flight was at 12-O-Clock and we waited for about 3-hours there. As the departure time arrived we separated from Pokerka and Majeedka and bid salaam each other. In the flight we were alone and soon after 4-hours flight we reached the King Abdul Azeez International Airport in Jeddah.

In the depth of my heart, There is a song that is hidden

For years I have cherished it with tenderness and Love.

My pens have failed to write them on a parchment

and my tongue fails to speak it to the outside world

The song is hidden in my heart.

Ismail Eliat.

In fact my sole intention to write this short diary is to say about my years in Saudi Arabia. Those eight long years I had spent there, the knowledge and the experience I have sought, the places and people I had seen and visited, I shall try to picture them in the best of my efforts and try to make my writings in an understandable and enjoyable manner, enjoy I don’t mean writing anything rubbish or some silly jokes, but facts, true incidents. Once again I remind that I have not given much consideration to the language status, another thing is that I have never been a writer or journalist but I always wished if I were, so many errors and mistakes, even blunders you may witness if the language status is taken to consideration. many are the writers who reaches the peaks of literature, but you find nothing in them, as an empty vessel make much noise, people are often fond of such rubbish while the real ones they neglect. Here what my expectation is that reader should understand what I aim at.

Out side the airport was my father standing, we followed our father towards his Toyota Corolla parked outside, my mother took up the front seat and we the little four in rows at the back seat, my father drove through the desert road, we like innocent lambs sat there, the hot air through the window would make anybody half asleep, father repeated say ‘Alhamdulillah’ you are nearing the sacred city of Mekkah, within half an hours drive we reached the holy city, my father pointed us for the first time the huge Minarets of the Holy Harem.

Again we drove for a while and in a place my father halted and parked his Toyota. This was his residence, an open taros with 2 bedrooms and a kitchen. As my father was the host and we the guest, he prepared ‘Roohafza’ -the drink for all of us, after the drink wwe had our prayers and soon slept.

The next day morning my father woke up we all before dawn and I and my brother with father set for the Harem Shareef. The Haram was a strange and a dreamland for us, I remember now the door through which we entered for the first time ‘Babu Ibrahim’ before it lay the vast ground. Now the ground is no more to be seen, the Maidan is always seen occupied by Hajjas and the black women selling grains and wheat packets to feed the daws and sparrows on the outskirts of Harem. We for the first time prayed the Fajr prayer and after that we did a Thawaf and again after that my father said if we wish we can stay in the Harem and soon my father left. Harem was for us like a criss-cross puzzle given to us, what Armstrong would have felt when he landed on the moon, we felt the same, every door and the pillars looked alike and similar. Wherever you go you see the Ka-aba at the centre of it. On that day we almost explored a little part of Harem and after the Noon prayers we returned back home.

The days crept on, the time passed, every day the life seemed new and with new experiences. At dawn my father would wake us up, set for the Harem Mosque, do Thawaf and afterwards return back home. The hot climate broke our lips and dried up our cute faces, gave criss-crosses on the foots, still may father will take in his Toyota me and my brother with him and showed us the inner parts of Makkah. Everyday we met and saw different sorts of people in the Harem, met different people of different lands that come from all corners of the world, we slowly started to understand that our village was not alone the world,

Visit to Madeena Munawwara

Tala 'a-l badru alaynaa,Min Thaniyaati-l Wadaa'

Wajaba-sh shukru alaynaa.Maa da'aa lillaahi daa'

Ayyuha-l mab 'uthu finaa, Ji'ta bi-l amri-l mutaa'

Ji'ta sharrafta-l Madinah,Marhaban yaa khayra-d daa'.

"The full moon has come upon us.

From beyond the hills of Thaniyaati-l Wadaa

Grateful we must be. For what to God he calls?

O - you who has been sent among us?

You came with a mission to be obeyed.

You came, you honoured the city; Welcome, O best of those who call (to God).

What danger is there to the wall of the faithful with thee for a

buttress?

What fear of the waves of the sea has he whose pilot is Noah?

He attained exaltation by his perfection.

He disspelled darkness by his beauty.

Beauteous are all his qualities,

Benediction be on him and on his family.

The song that always echoes in the hearts of the believers. Song sung by the little girls of Madeena when Prophet (P.B.U.H) entered their city. .

Blessed were the people who sung this song, blessed is the land in which they lived..

One day my father said to us, we are going to Madeena. What was Makkah, the the same was Madeena for me. In those childish frame of mind understood little about the place we were leaving for. Along with us was one of my fathers close friend -Mohammed Ali(ka) who was also an engineer working with my father. Madina Munawwara locate 450 Kms away of Makkah. I remember our journey started in the evening and most of the journey was through the night, we took rests and breaks while in journey and by early dawn we reached the city. Madeena is indeed a beautiful city, its beauty is always reflected through the ancient buildings and the date palm

trees gardens seen here and there. The first thing we see when enter the City is- Masjid Cuba, it was the first mosque in the history of Islam. Unlike Makkah the climate here is bearable and normal. The people too, far different from Makkah, always calm and quiet, humble and good mannered. The features of the Ansars (Helpers) is always reflected in them. We entered the Harem Nabavi through Babul Salam and we preyed the fajr prayer for the first time and visited the Roula Shareef (Grave of our Nabi (P.B.U.H) ). Though here thousands gather to visit the Grave, clamours are unheard here, nor any talk that is bleak. The place is always silent. The next morning we went to Uhud, did Ziyarah of the great graves of Hamsa (R.A) and other companions who were the martyrs of the Battle Uhud. Afterwards we visited other holy places. We went to Khandeq and preyed in all the nine little mosques in rows seen there Then went to Masjid Qiblathine. Here the Prophet (Sallallahu Alaihi Wasallam) preyed facing towards Masjid Aqsa at Jerusalam and then with the Command of Allah turned to the Holy Qa-ba. We stayed for three days and returned back to Makkah.

The whole of our life changed by the arrival of Pathucha, Pathucha is my fathers elder sister, she perhaps unknown to the world outside is famous amoung us and the village where she stay, Edechery. She arrived on the 2nd of Dil-hijja-1408 (1988) along with Thazildar Basheercha of Kasaragod. Even though by now it was only three months had passed since we arrived, still she narrated us the tales happening in our far home and we listened them with eager and enthusiasm. At first she showed unhappy moods and distress, because of leaving her dearly home and people, her cows and sheeps, her dearly chickens, her kins and kits and after all , perhaps she, since her creation, might not have left her little kingdome. Now she has left all her dearings and pleasures for the sake of Allah, for the fulfilment of the command of her Lord, for His command is dearer for a beliver then all the charmings and the glitters of this world, for all that glitters and lovely are but the necessities of the journey we are in, while our target is something far away, though it is as near as anything, is the eternity.

For the kings are the thrones and the palaces

for the butterfly is the nectar

and for Pathucha is her cow & goats.

thus goes the order, every one has some thing lovely in their eyes, the strengh of effection for all are equal for every one, though the materials differs from each other. We are like Zulaikha of the Prophet Yousuf (P.B.U.H), are attracted by the physical glamour and the beauties that are pleasing to our eyes, but are far away from the reality, from the true beauty that exist. This is the spiritual aspect, this alone is understood by those whom the All Merciful have opened their heart with the light of His truth.

But Pathucha in later days was happy with us. The Hajj that we did with her was our first as well as her’s. My Mother had done one earlier. My father with the Grace of Allah does every years of his stay in Saudi Arabia.

My First Hajj.

On the 8th of Dulhijja- we dressed ourselves on Ihrams, we walked through the sheds of Mina. Every one celebrated and proclaimed loudly “Labbaikallahumma Labbaik” ‘(Here is Thy Slave)….....’ in a beautiful tone so that it penetrates in to the inner hearts and gives a tickle. Many chanting with ecstasy and in emotion. The unity of humanity is witnessed in Pilgrimage, all uniformly dressed, the rich, the poor, both wore the same two pieces of clothes. None has any exception, for the son of Adam is equal in the eyes of Allah. Nearest to Him are those that fear and obey Him. Blessed in the sight of Allah are those that are humble and righteous, those that always fear and desires to meet Him. The Scholars say the Haj has many more deeper spiritual meanings. The gatherings of the mass at Arafa reminds man the day when Allah will gather all Humanity infrent of Him and question of all deeds that he did during while he was here.

Our first Hajj has still many tales to narrate. It was full of hardships and sufferings and we almost walked as much as we could. I still remember Pathucha very tired and in almost cryingly asking my father to stay for the night any where before reaching Musdalifa.

The Haj was over, Pathucha’s countable days passed soon. Some times she would come along with us to Harem, she would sit in the Women’s Place of prayer still we come back, she would speak with Philippinos in Malayalam. After that we went to Madeena with her and on the return journey to Jeddah airport Thahzildar Basheercha was also with us. I remember the lengthy speech of my father in the car, to Pathucha in special, because she had lost her spects in Madeena and she spoke some unnecessary words to the one who had taken her spects. After a lenghty drivings for hours, we reached Haj Terminal at Jeddah and she soon left us. we felt her absence with the loneliness in us for few days.

The most important turning point of my life was the admission of me and my brother to Holy Harem Holy Quran Class (Dars). The life and reutine after that changed. Unlike before, we were now students, the class for us was from Asr to Isha. Our Usthad - Mohammed Noor was a native of Pakisthan, leaving in Makkah and as an Usthad in Harem for spanes. For our daily Dars, we will go after Zuhr prayer to Harem through SABCO bus and for the Isha prayer my father will come to Harem to pick us. In those days he was working in a construction company called KARA - in Azeeziyah. We bought cassettes to make our byheartation easy. The first cassette that my father bought for us was the recitation of Mohammed Sulaiman Muhaisiny. Since then Muhaisny has been our favourite. In the Dars at first we were not in progress, went like a snail, but soon we could trespass majority of the students in speed and performance, and indeed in good behaviour. If any of our Usthaz’s freind comes to him, he will point his finger far in the corner, towards us, and will say in pride, the two students who had never been prey to his big, lenghty stick. Who are Kurlas , he used to call us ‘Kurla’ since the day my brother told him we are from Kerala, he never knew what is it or where it is, he in good mood calls us ‘Kurla’. Our new freinds were a mix of all countries, Turks, Pakisthanis, Arabs, Afganis and many other more nations, and we were the two from Kerala.

Every day passed in the same manner. We purchased our goods from a nearby super market ‘Bindawood’ - a large shopping centre in Makkah. Thhe Darul Fathh nearby served us with cassettes and Islamic books.

During this time was the severe winter in Makkah, according to my father, it was a record for many years. The winter never changed our ruitines nor made any barrier for getting up at dawn and going to Harem. At that time we did not even had a sweater. Mostly wrapping on Ihrams or bedsheets we would go to Harem. Even at this extreme temperature my father would sit in the open ‘Mathaf’ without even a sweater on his body. As I always wanted to say, my father was a man of strange and different personality, he bears every hardships for the sake of Allah.

They do not realize the depth of knowledge he possess

The treasures of Knowledge he possess, is like a depthless ocean that is abyss.

Alas, in the public eyes , he is seen as an ignorant,

as if knew nothing..

Indeed he is a one who has treasures but never opens them, rarely he opens and we get the jewel and the pearls out of him. At this early morning there will exist a quiet cold breeze in the Mathaf. My father always says, the cold breeze that come in the Harem in the early dawn is from heaven.

The cold breeze from heaven touches the hearts of the devotees, singing the beautiful songs that are meant for the heart to sing, the song of the Lord. People go around the ‘Ka-aba’ every time.

The winter in Makkah lasted long. Our routine continued, go in the early morning, come back , go again after Zuhr, come back after Isha. And soon few months after the month of Ramazan arrived, every thing completely changed, the haram once again after hajj was filled with visitors and by those who wish to do Umra arrived there. The Tharawih prayers we preyed from the Holy Harem , and returned home late eleven or twelve at night. At Three we will have our supper, and again go to Harem Mosque and come back as usual. My mother prepared much ‘Kozhibadas’ and samoosas for the Ifthar. After Zuhr prayer we will pack every thing, with two flasks of teas and will set for the Harem. ‘Koibadas’ are not allowed to enter the Mosque, still at that time no much strict was there and my mother had a Malyali gate keeper at Babul Umra. I still remember going through different doors of Harem so that all our ‘samoosas’ will not be caught at once - all the days task of my mother

will not be in vain. Immediately after Asr my father and we two will take a place in the Mathaf just behind Imam, mostly Mammualika will be on our sides. After Magrib prayer we will complete our needs and go for ‘Wudu and take our booked place soon. The ‘Tharawih’ prayers, how can a man forget his experience praying in the Harem. The ‘Thawaf’ in the front will be going on even while ‘Tharawih’ the circuimstation never ends, and they say it will never end, it shall continue till the dunes day. On the last part of Ramazan my father sat for ‘Ithiqaf’ and on these days was a special prayer at night called ‘Qiyamullile’ which starts at 12:30 in the night. These ten days the Harem will be flooded with devotees, the most rush and filled is seen on 27th of Ramazan and on the day is a special ‘Dua’ of Completion of reciting Holy Quran. and thus Ramazan passed away.

We missed our first Idul Fitr Prayer at the Mosque, it was earlier than we had expected. When we reached Harem the prayer had just finished, we sat for its ‘Khuthba’ for a while . After this, we went to a room in the outskirts of Harem, on the hills nearby the Makka Hotel. and there was an old bearded man sitting and my father introduced us the he is Moosa Moulana. The first thing that Moulana did was he put a whole egg in both of our mouths, after that we came back to Azeeziya, to our ruined palace. My mother by now has made hot drinks, we all ate and drank the specials which my mother made and the days Eid was over.

The Eidul Fitr passed, again we had our old days, those routine still continued, get up in the morning and go to Harem Shareef, do Thawaf and by now we have a special likeness towards ‘Afghani Rotti & Phool’ and my father would buy one or two while returning from Harem. for Pathucha this was her Pathil

During our second Hajj, arrived my grandfather-Bapa. The credit of seeing him first goes to me. It was me who saw him on one of the footpaths of Makkah. He brought for us little little things for us from Kerala. Before his arrival my father had bought an A/C, which lasted for a month and expired with Bapa’s departure. That Hajj with him was also very pleasant. we did it almost on foot. It was in this year the bomb blast occurred near Holy Harem which killed and injured few pilgrims. After the Haj we went madeena with him, we would sleep on the open terrous with him in the night, it lasted for few days as every piligrims had only a stay period of 40 days, no longer we enjoyed his presence, his good narration were no more heared, he soon left from us to his native.

By that time I had byhearted a quarter of Holy Quran, the pace was too slow, but immediately after we took to a full speed which no student trespassed us. It was a real competition between me and my brother, as we used to say, we took a year almost for 10 Paras but for the remaining 20 only six months were needed.

For the Maccan life, we cannot omit a person, though simple and poor, Mr. Shahul Hameed our nearest shop keeper. He is Tamil and had been a close friend of me and my brother, we used to purchase little things from his shop, for the large and the bulky we had the big super market-Bin Dawood, a stones throw from where we stay.

Our second Ramazan was ever more beautiful. Pokarak, Kuttiyasanka and our great grand mother-Ummama all arrived. It was me who went with my father to escort them to King Abdul Azeez International Airport at Jeddah. I still remember my father’s extra spirit while returning to Makkah, he couldn’t control his emotions when all of us were united, he almost went out of his control. My father had such moments often, The Sufis call this state as Haal, is a state when a man gets completely and totally submerged in the thoughts of Allah, engulfed in His thoughts and gets spiritually strenthened. Though this is widely misunderstood and blamed by those little brains, is a reality, as I said earlier, we understand very little of the things around us, to whom Allah has opened the heart with wisdom and true vision understands.

It was the time when I almost finished my Hifz and I have conducted for an examination conducted in the Harem itself, for it I received 72% marks and for the price distribution I received SR.1000/=. I gave this amount to my father. I remember what my uncle said at the time “ Ismail’s hifz I say will last for six months” what he said was true seeing the situations around us, but in my prayers and the wispers, I always preayed to Almighty, to strengthen my memories and not to make it lose from me, if I lose it, I believe I have lost every thing, all others are the .... of this grat truth. This is some thing which He gives to whome soever Allah wish, but He takes it away from those who underestimate it, those that are arrogant and houghty.

With Kuttihassanka and all the Ramazan was beautiful. We all used to prey the Tharawih on the grounds outside ‘Safa-Marwa’. Like the last Ramazan, by evening we would carry the samoosas and the items for the Ifthar to Harem and return back in the late night, our two blessed flasks carried teas in full and served the needy, the brothers unknown and the known, who are brothers in Islam, though from different corners of the world.

After the second Ramazan was over, my father immediately sought for our admission in the Embassy School at Jeddah, after his much training and affords we got the admission. My brother was joined to the ninth standard, me to sixth, Arifa in the fourth and the little sister Abida to First standard. The first day to school I still remember, it was me and my brother who went on the first day. My father dropped us near the gate of the school in the very early morning, this was the time when my father was working in ‘Ainul Azeeziya Water Supply Department’ as an engineer. In the following days that went we the four would wake up in the very early morning, mostly at 3-in the night. My mother, my grandmother also would awake at this time and will say pitiful talks seeing our hardships at this dawn hours, my mother will console for her pity talks. Mother will prepare few chapathis for our dinner. The Thahajjud and the fajr prayers we preyed in the Harem Shareef and will set for Jiddah immediately after the prayer was over. Within thirty minutes we would reach there, at about 6 or 6 and half, we reached Jeddah. My father will drop us in the little garden outside the school and my sisters will directly go to the school since their was the first shift.

Jeddah seemed to us cool place, fine temperature. The extreme hot air and that climate of Makkah is no more here. The hot air that made us sleepy and in slumber are not here, nor were the dark mountains and the black stones that reflect the rays and heated us up and the whole of Maccah, but Jeddah was misseing some thing, something which the external eyes could not see at, some thing which the worldly man understands not, was the blessed sand of Makkah, with each and every particle of it has a thousand stories to narrate. ..........write from diary...............................

Azzeziya Store, which is near the Embassy School and its members become familiar to us, the shop owner Gafoorka- a Karalite was first met by my brother. I still remember that incident, when me and my brother were sitting outside the school garden, my brother went to the store to purchase a note book, there was our Gafoorka in it, after the purchase was over, Gafforka said to come again soon, my brother again went to the shop saying the money returned had a mistake, he said “Ha..I said see you soon and once again you are here”. Thus with Gafoorka after wards we all came very close and he became a close friend of all of us.

In the School garden we would sit till our school begins, the boys section of school started at 12:20 and ended at 5:20 in the evening. After few days we would keep our bags inside the Mosque that is nearby called’ Masjid Juhra’ and go for walking. Me and my brother would cross the grounds after grounds, miles after miles and it was really an exploration of our new land, sometimes the walking go for miles and we returns just before the school begins. Our every day went in similar, come to Jeddah the very early morning and while we returned we were all tired and I remember at that time we had not even a fridge to get cool water.

After a month school summer vacation arrived, we once again started going to Harem Shareef for the completion of our Hifz. At that time I was at the last part of the Quranic Chapter ALi-Imran, my brother finished after few days, still after few days mine was also finished. We were then two Hafizs, we took about an year and a half for the completion. We couldn’t do any revisions from Harem because we never got time.

The Vacation were over after 2 months, during the summer vacation was the Hajj. This time our great grand mother was also with us. Hamsaka a relative of Dr. Aboobacker of Valapatnam and his wife was too with us for the Hajj. for the first time we took our Toyota Corolla along........... We still lived on the terous of our Meccan house, hot, extreme climate, but our Haj was fine.

Still the summer vacation wasn’t over, we continued our old Dars, I had left one or 2 Paras for the completion still. My brother completed after few days, I still remember his happiness at the Khathm Ceremony, after a month my Hifz too was over. My brother had the habit of recording the date and the time of starting and ending of new Paras, according to him we have taken a year and a half for the completion.

The Years in Jeddah

In the following pages I write in short the years I spend at Jeddah. Though I had been six years in those desert lands, yet I have very little to write about. Perhaps it is something that prevents me from writing in details, perhaps my heart no longer wish to say in pride about those lengthy years, as a thing’s beauty and the person’s intrest and enthusiasm is always linked to the likeness of the matter in him which he indulge. Infact the life in Jeddah was far diferent from Meccah. When life becomes spiritually weak, life will be as in a conjested cell and difficult, as if climping on ropes towars the eternal sky, is hard. Life is like a flower that is seemingly beauty but no more smells, blessed odours never comes out of it, nor it reflects in the rays of the truth.

The two years in Meccah have passed just away, those innocent mind understood little of the world around us, of the people and their cultures, of the types and manners. Now my father has admitted us to the new school and every thing seemed new. As I had said earlier, those friends we met in the school garden became closer friends, we acknowledged each other more, they were a family of five coming from Haddah, which is half way towards Makkah, their native place in India is Hydrabad. Dr. Habeeb the head of the family was a doctor working in one of the hospitals where he comes, wife Shabana and the children- Shoukath, Moosa and Fathima, students who became later our closest friends and playmates. And now we were two families in one flat. The life indeed experienced new with them, though we were two and of different States and language, we felt almost as one. This I say, existed until the very last days of our stay in Jeddah, we were one and closer. Many are the men questioned in anguish, how could two families live together for years, that too one from Andra and other of Keralite, still we lived with no broken hearts, in peace and harmony.

Ummama (Grand mother) was still with us, she is been six months with us since she arrived. She was happy and in good health with us, bur in later part of her stay, she was in a broken mood, unhappiness always existed in her, as she had come in the very beginning of Holy Ramazan and had done Haj with us and all the piligrims and the kins who arrived has already left. All this might have brought her in mind her native, the relatives, as to heatup the situation, somebody asked while returning after Hajj whether she is going with them.

She would eat with us together sitting on ground, her legs stretched, my father always considred and treated with special items for her, like Pathucha she had our Rotti for her Pathil. We would buy prawns and costly fishes for her for she should be happy, old age has taken her, criss crosses are their every where on her face,her good seasons of life has almost has faded away. I still remember what my uncle said when he came during Ranazan with her and Kuttyhassanka, he said ‘Kunhika’ Azrael came at ummama and went away. Meaning at homeland she had been in bad health that they felt almost her death, but she became well after. now she has one and sole wish, to die a good death, to be amongst those that are in grades, die in pleasure of Allah and to be amoungst those He has blessed, The Prohets, Siddiques, Matriyers, and the Rightious. She always wished she would die at Mekkah. For a Mumin, is always the eternity before him, the assurence of the hereafter is always in him , unto his Lord is his final retun and never will the beauties and the pleasures of this temporary world grasp them away from His rememberance, of whom He has guided, always seeks His pleasure.

She soon left us. I remember the last and the final farewell we very sadly bid her at King Abdul Azeez International Airport at Jeddah. After that we never saw her, death took her long before we could see her once again, we only heard the death news of her in later years of Jeddah stay. We prey may Allah forgive all of us and may He admit us in the eternal bliss He promised, the Paradise, for His promise is true and sure to come.

I ask my fellow men of Villiappalli

When you walk through the graveyards of Parambilappali

Walk slowly besides those graves, Pray for My Grandmother who rest in peace,

In the dark grave that is beneath the bush,

Their the bushes that eat up the flush of the dead do not reveal the secrets of the graves

Nor the tumb stones at either sides speak to you what is happening in grave.

The time we shifted from Makkah was the time when Saddham invaded Kuwait, every where existed the dark clouds of a war in the region, Arabs who were in fear of a war went to live in deserts for a while. It was almost after an year the war really broke out. The day the war broke, sirens were heared from Mosques of Jeddah, none came out of their homes, nor was any seen on streets, see man fears death as much as anything, man always wants to run away from the very thing that he fears, but death catches every single sole that are alive.

The Gulf war ended after few days with the defeat of the Iraq and victory for U.S.A and its joiners. Our school and other offices started once again. and the days in Jeddha as I said earlier, rolled in similer, I say no difference between yesterday, today and tomorrow.

If I have any thing to say that is different in Jeddah is the Ramazan days. Ramazan a month fully different in almost all parts of Arab countries and for the Muslim world. The school timings changed. we would go to Msjid

Imam Abo Haneefa for the Ifthar-the breaking of the fast. there the arabs and the native people will brings all sorts of item, from cold drinks to fried chickens.

In the later part of Jeddah stay my father lost his job, the sole reason of our return to the native. During this time we explored one or two times many parts of Arabia. In those days we were too weak spiritually and never enjoyed the true beauty hidden in those sand dunes.

The End.

When the carpets of my life shall fold before me

And old age and weakness shall roll me up

I shall sit and read these venurable pamphlets

The joyous moments- O-Brother, is unable to narrate,

Unfolding those springs of life before me,

Like the drops of dew…for a dying man.…………

Finally I take leave of thee dear reader, I have written in short the stories of my past. When the carpets of my life shall unfold before me and the old age shall take me(if God willed) what joy would it be to read these venerable scripts and dream of the past days. Dream of the days when I was as free and happy as a bird in the ether. So dear reader, my humble request, Include in thine prayers this very sinner, prey for thy sake whatsoever thou wish, in the end beg for your brother too. The day all are brought before their Lord, if this humble servant gets a chance to utter a word, I would say, Lord, I am a sinner, but I always hoped in Thy Mercy.

Gone are those tiny paper boats, and gone are those innocent child hood days. The springs of my life had gone forever and never are those days to return. Even if I am to exchange the whole of my treasures none can give them back, For this world, I speak unto my self, is to pass away. Every thing here in this world is to come and vanish away.

Back

Read this book and digest it

T H E R E A L I T Y

(if truth is anything, this is the truth)

(As truth as anything that your tongs utter)

One day We shall remove the mountains, and thou wilt see the earth

As a level stretch, and We shall gather them, all together, nor shall

We leave out any one out of them.

And they will be marshalled before thy Lord in ranks,

(with the announcement), “Now have ye come to Us (bare) as We

created you first: aye, ye thought We shall not fulfil the appointment

made to you to meet(Us)

And the Book(of deeds) will be placed (before you) and thou wilt see

The sinful in great terror because of what is (recorded) therein;

They will say “Ah! Woe to us! What a book is this!

It leaves out nothing small or great, but takes account thereof!”

They will find all that they did, placed before them:

And not one will thy Lord treat with injustice.

(Holy Quran-Chapter-Al-Kahf (The Cave):

Death is not the end of everything as the ignorant, fanatic of scientists justify. It is a gate to an end less journey. Eternity is before every man, man is created and death do not end him up. …Read below.

A great reality about which men are heedless, men are ignorant of this great day or the biggest calamity that awaits them, utter negligence of the meaning of their life in this little globe and forgotten for them is the fact that a day all shall be raised up from their buried graves…..INDEED. from the graveyards of the lands which they passed by, the day men will see, all the ruins, the skeletons walk and march towards their Creator,

INDEED a Great Day -O- my friends and is sure to pass by, let the whole of humanity deny, utter a million tongs and speak with all sound, the day is a fact and a reality which each and every one WILL see and witness with the two little eyes. WILL INDEED SEE, If the hearts cannot digest these words or the minds are too arrogant to deny this, I say WAIT until for a day when this reality is witnessed clearly with your naked eyes. WAIT FOR THAT DAY. But I say, time will be too late if waited. Death is the only barrier between your rejection and this great reality, and if death takes, tears of bloods will no suffice your sorrows, mountains of gold will not be accepted as compensation nor there is a return for you to overcome this fate..

'To him was given the key of the shaft of the bottomless pit ...

and there arose a smoke out of the pit, as the smoke of a great furnace;

and the sun and the air were darkened by reason of the smoke ..

The smoke of their torment ascends up forever and ever ;

and they have no rest day nor night."

So my dear reader, I want to speak with thousand tongs this truth, this booklet, I write with a sole intention, I want to speak the readers in details about this truth which I have got assured in my heart, and from readers I expect no worldly rewards for this, nor any pennies to fill my belly, I say not even thanks I beg, I believe some one coming to right guidance is wealthier then getting the whole bundles and treasures of this world, But I expect, when angel of death will take off my soul, when the last day on this world I witness, I hope to see with my two eyes, the eternal paradise, I expect, the day my deeds are weighed, let this work be one of the heaviest on the balance, and I lastly expect the Pleasure of my Lord for ever.

Back

THE PLEASURES OF JANNAH

All praises be to Allah, I bear witness that none is worthy of worship besides Him and Muhammed (Sallallahu Alayhi Wa Sallam) is His servant and Messenger.

* It should be remembered that Jannah is the abode of the pious. It is the place of Allah's pleasure and bounties.

It is a place that is:

1. Gigantic in size as well as delight.

2. Where rivers run below beautiful gardens.

3. Massive palaces are constructed; one brick of silver and one of gold and the cement in-between is of pure musk.

4. The pebbles of which are pearls, diamonds, rubies, emeralds and other gleaming gems.

5. The soil of which is za'faran (safron)

6. The tents are of solid jewels that have been carved into.

7. The flowers, fruits and greenery is unlimited

8. The women of which are enchanting

9. The perspiration will be fragrant perfume

10. The faces of it's inhabitants will always be radiant and happy

11. Death will never approach it

12. It will be eternal and everlasting

13. The veils will be removed and Allah will be seen...

* In short it is a place of such delights that the eye has never seen, the ear never heard and the human mind never perceived. * And all this has been promised by such a being who was directly informed about all this via the means of wahi by Allah Ta'ala Himself - this being is the fountainhead of guidance, Hazrat Muhammed (Sallallahu Alayhi Wa Sallam).

Back

REMEMBER

REMEMBER THIS DAY

I speak to mine heart.

What I write is no joke or novel,

But REALITY.

The final desire within my heart … O.. Lord is nothing else than the death in Thy Plesure.. The day I die, I expect the angels of mercy take away my soul gently, and I see the eternal paradise before me, the Hoors and heavently ornaments……..

LET ME PICTURE IT BEFORE IT ACTUALLY COMES AND OVER TAKES ME, SO THAT MY MIND MAY NOT FORGET THE REALITIES BEFORE ME, SO THAT MY SOUL MAY TAKE IT FOR REAL AND TAKE HEED OF MY SAYINGS, THE REAL DANGERS IT FACES AND TO MY DEAR READERS, FORGET NOT THIS IS A REALITY FOR ALL, WILL CATCH EVERY SOUL THAT LIVES….FOR SURE.

The last day of my life on this planet, how would it be, what would I be doing or where I would be, I cannot say, my knowledge cannot calculate the fate of mine for tomorrow, nor what all may happen to me in future, also my soul is ignorant of the day it departs from my body, But it is for sure, written and decreed in a book that is with my Lord.….but My heart beats tells me that life of this world’s life is minutes and seconds.

That will be my last day on this earth. And the last place of my long journey, when and where I cannot say, may be tomorrow in the land where I was born, may be after I get old age and I become weak and meek and my beauties and smartness disappear forever and the place again may be somewhere in some corner of this little globe or may be ages after in a battle field as a martyr, BUT INDEED THAT WILL BE when I shall see my dear and dear ones for the last time.. Safeera who is my dearest and my mother and father and the brothers and sisters whom I love all I depart and that will be the day when I see the reality. The biggest reality which is promised by more than one and quarter lakhs of Prophets.

Back

Other Recommended Sites

Click

Largest Islamic Audio on the net..

All you want to know of Islam

Back

Last revised: Date: 30 June 2005