M Ghazali Khan
Whenever I used to read or hear about a friend or relative living abroad who, despite making every possible effort, could not attend the funeral prayer or burial of one of their parents, the fear of ever facing such helplessness would deeply shake me. On the evening of December 12, when the devastating news of my mother’s passing reached me, I found myself facing the same helplessness that many migrants are forced to endure.
Because of Christmas, no seats were available on a direct flight to Delhi. At last, after a desperate search, my younger son, Bilal Khan, managed to secure a seat on Lufthansa.
While I was sitting at Heathrow Airport, waiting for the gate to open for Frankfurt (from where I was to change my flight to Delhi), my mourning and sobbing younger sister, Dr Sheema Aleem, showed me—through her mobile camera—our mother’s final glimpse: wrapped in a shroud and prepared for her last journey.
For a few moments, I felt utterly helpless as I gazed with my tearful eyes at that innocent face and angelic countenance. I kept looking at the face that had endured countless hardships to raise and nurture me. Its beauty and purity had not faded despite five long years of illness. The lips that never ceased praying for me had stopped moving forever, and the hands that used to rise in prayer for me had fallen still. My helplessness and inability to give her my shoulder on her final journey surrounded me with an overwhelming sense of ungratefulness and misfortune.
For every child, their mother is the best in the world, and my siblings and I are no exception to this rule. Yet the truth is that Allah SWT had blessed our mother not only with extraordinary physical beauty but also with immense moral and spiritual wealth. She was an exemplary embodiment of maintaining relations. Not only relatives, but even non-relatives found in her a trusted confidant. All women—especially newly married brides—would share their sorrows with her to lighten their hearts, and she, in her unique manner, would try to ease their worries through gentle counsel.
If anyone came to her seeking help, refusal was not in her nature. When her own resources fell short, she would inform us siblings about the nature of the problem with this preface and insistence: ‘I will not tell you the name, and don’t you ask me who it is. I have put the matter into your ear; the rest is up to you.’
She herself became an orphan at a very young age and regarded the pain of orphans as her own. Whenever she met a child whose mother or father had passed away, she would show them special affection.
About five years ago, she suffered a stroke. After surgery, while she lay in the hospital in a semi-conscious state, my younger sisters noticed that she was moving her fingers. Aware of her lifelong habit of reciting the tasbih (rosary), they placed it in her hand. She began to move her beads and move her lips just as she had before her illness. This sight astonished even the doctors and nurses. Witnessing this scene, one nurse exclaimed, ‘Dekho dekho mataji mala jap rahi haiN’. (Look, Mom is chanting her rosary)
Her passing is an immense loss for all of us siblings, but it is especially significant for our elderly father and my youngest sister. It’s not an exaggeration to say that after my mother became ill, their roles reversed: my mother became like a newborn child, and my sister took on the role of an overprotective mother, unwilling to leave her side for even a moment. A doctor once jokingly remarked, ‘Mataji ko to yeh pakre bethi hai’, meaning she is not letting her mother go.
May Allah SWT grant all those whose parents are alive the ability to value them, to recognise their duties, and to act upon these Qur’anic commands. Ameen:
‘We enjoined upon man to be dutiful to his parents. His mother bore him in weakness upon weakness, and his weaning lasted two years. (We, therefore, enjoined upon him): “Give thanks to Me and to your parents. To Me is your ultimate return.’ (Surah Luqman 31:14)
‘Your Lord has decreed: (i) Do not worship any but Him; (ii) Be good to your parents; and should both or any one of them attain old age with you, do not say to them even “fie” neither chide them, but speak to them with respect, and be humble and tender to them and say: “Lord, show mercy to them as they nurtured me when I was small.’
(Surah Bani Isra’il 17:23–24)
I am deeply grateful to all the friends who sent condolence messages and prayed for my mother’s forgiveness after her passing. May the Almighty bless them with huge rewards and answer their prayers. I am especially thankful to my brother, Samiullah Khan Sahib, who travelled from Lucknow to Deoband for this purpose, and to Alamullah Sahib and Afroz Alam Sahil Sahib, who came from Delhi to Deoband solely to offer condolences and to meet me.