Wake Up Call* [[-3rd Episode-]]

 *Wake Up Call*

[[-3rd Episode-]]
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بسم الله الرحمان الرجيم

Allah (swt) did not stop being Lord after Ramadan and the first ten days of dhul-hjjah.

Muslims today are of two categories: "the part-time Muslims and the full-time Muslims."

The part-time Muslims are those who will return to their old self after Ramadan and dhul-hjjah: not reading Qur'an everyday: becoming weaker in all acts of worship.

The full-time Muslims increase their good deeds. They work even harder after Ramadan and dhul-hjjah.

This reminds me,

Ustaz Abdulqadir wasn’t a scholar. He was not a part-time Muslim but a FULL-TIME MUSLIM. Yes. From Ramadan to Ramadan, he hardly missed reciting Qur'an outside swalah. And in his house, every morning after Fajr prayer, the Qur’an recitation started playing. It was the background while his children got ready for school. When he left for his business centre, the Qur’an travelled with him, its divine verses emanating from a small speaker on his desk,

Because the Qur’an was always there, his children learned it naturally. They memorized many parts without being forced. At night, the recitation played immediately after ishai prayer till Fajr prayer time.

When his time on this earth came to an end, his family members and the community mourned a righteous man. As they prepared his body for the final rites, washing and shrouding him with tender hands, something inexplicable happened.

From nowhere, the distinct, familiar voice of his chosen Qur’an reciter began to play without a traceable source. It felt like the house itself was releasing the words it had kept for years.

The amazing situation continued as his body was carried out of the house and placed before the congregation for the Janaiz prayer.

Hundreds had gathered, and all could hear the unearthly recitation. Whispers of "SubhanAllah" rippled through the crowd. The Imam, a man of stern composure, stepped forward to lead the prayer. The moment he raised his hands and said, "Allahu Akbar," the Qur’an audio stopped. Instantly. The sudden, profound silence was more shocking than the sound itself.

The moment the final "As-salaamu ‘alaykum" was uttered, the beautiful recitation resumed, picking up exactly where it had left off.

Even as his body was lowered into the dark depths of the grave, the recitation continued. It echoed within the confines of the grave, a familiar comfort in an unfamiliar place. The gravediggers, their hands trembling, began to cover the grave with sand. With each shovelful, the sound did not diminish. When the last patch of earth was patted down, and the final du'a was about to be made, another breathtaking thing happened.

A bright white light shone from his grave. The light and the Qur’an sound rose up and disappeared, leaving everyone amazed and silent.

The message was seared into their souls. Ustaz Abdulqadir had not just listened to the Qur’an; he had lived with it, and in his death, it did not abandon him. It became his light, his companion in the solitude of the grave, and his vehicle of ascent.

To be continued..