The Beautiful Journey to My New Home

Sunset at the Charles River

Boston holds a lot of nostalgia for me because there were some not-so-good hallmarks of my life that took place in this city two years ago. There are places and people here who trigger an anxiety attack in me but necessarily have no connection to the life-changing events of my life. Indeed, it's not their inherent fault but something I attribute solely to myself. Thus, it took an immense level of strength to return with the intention of settling here but inshaAllah (God willingly), I can already foresee that this decision will not end up with regrets.

I came to the United States two months ago like many others in hopes of getting a green card so that I can start my life, pay off my loans and give back to my parents who have worked day and night to bring me where I am. However, the past couple of months were nothing like the glorious "American dream" some of my relatives and friends back in Pakistan perceive me to be living. It was the ultimate test of my patience and faith. A relative told me a few weeks ago and I paraphrase:
"No one forced you to make such a choice. What you're going through now are the repercussions of your own decisions that you took four years ago."

Alas! This isn't the first time I have heard that from a loved one but I don't think I need to explain my reasons to anyone. I already gave my best shot in the summer when a question upon question was hurled to my family about our back and forth travel to America especially when my father has been in and out of jobs and claims to not be in the financial position to move out of our family home. My word bank is out of words for such explanations and it's only God I hold on to for helping me and my family stand strong during these times of high tide.

I stayed in Hartford, CT, for over more than a month at one of my mom's friends' home. She and her husband are a quiet couple who have their own way of life - a life which was obviously disturbed when I moved in. I could be entirely wrong because my emotions could be a manifestation of my own mental state but after a while I could feel the signs of my physical and financial burden on them. Weekly trips to Boston for interviews gave me the necessary breaks but were not enough to alleviate my discomfort until a point that I decided to move out.

I traveled to my college campus in hopes of finding refuge, but alas! That in itself was another poor decision. I wouldn't deny that my friends were really hospitable and a couple of them gave me such a warm reception that I couldn't believe my eyes that how could a person like me receive so much love? But....I guess I made the mistake of not realizing that I no longer belonged there. That I had *graduated* and was no longer a student there. Everyone was busy in their own thing while I was that stranger in the foreign land. Only an unwanted stranger. Hence, time and time again of getting locked out and hearing refusals of "I'm sorry, but I have a lot of work to do," left me in a greater state of frustration and loneliness than I was before.

As I packed my bags to move again, this time to Boston, I just sat on them in silence, not wanting to travel again. In theory I knew that a Muslim never loses hope but in practice I was failing terribly. As one of my closest friends entered the room to help, I told her, "I don't want to go! I am done. I give up."

It's instances like these when real friends come in the picture. They remind you of God's countless blessings and give us a hand to lift us from the lowest pits of our sorrow. Since she and I had attended the Quranic Supplications course together, her mere presence reminded me of the incident of Taif when Prophet Muhammad pbuh knew that no one else other than his original forty companions were going to believe in him in his hometown of Makkah. So he went to the valley of Taif to seek those who could support him but instead was ridiculed and chased out of the city with stones. He bled so much that the soles of his feet were stuck to his shoes due to the clotted blood. On his way back from Taif with tears and blood running down his face, he fell into a ditch and did not want to get out of it. In this misery, he lifted his hands high above his head and exclaimed: 

"O Allah! I complain to You of my weakness, my scarcity of resources and the humiliation I have been subjected to by the people. O Most Merciful of those who are merciful. O Lord of the weak and my Lord too. To whom have you entrusted me?

To a distant person who receives me with hostility? Or to an enemy to whom you have granted authority over my affair? So long as You are not angry with me, I do not care. Your favor is of a more expansive relief to me. I seek refuge in the light of Your Face by which all darkness is dispelled and every affair of this world and the next is set right, lest Your anger or Your displeasure descends upon me. I desire Your pleasure and satisfaction until You are pleased. There is no power and no might except by You."

Wasn't that powerful?! I had tears in my eyes while writing it down because his emotions were my emotions as I departed Mount Holyoke. I knew that I could NEVER be in his shoes but since I am not a prophet like him, I can only strive to emulate him and can never have the level of patience, forbearance and gratitude he possessed.

I came to Boston with an open mind and with the intention of seeking internal peace through prayer and reflection, especially now that Imam William Suhaib Webb was back from his Malaysia tour. It was after the Friday prayer that I realized that Allah's help was near. Not only did I qualify for the second interview of a job I really wanted but a now-close-friend's mom offered me to stay at their home while I searched for jobs. I hesitated to take her offer but as I was driven out by the roommate of a friend whose apartment I stayed for a couple of nights after arriving in Boston, I realized that there if there are bad people in this world, they're also good people. If some of us are the Quraysh of Makkah, then some of us are the Ansaar (helpers) of Madina who embraced the immigrants from Makkah with open arms and gave them a place in their homes as if they were related by blood.

My mom's friend in Hartford would advise me, "Maybe you should start looking for opportunities outside of Boston." What she didn't know was that I am in dire need of its Muslim community, primarily of their religious guide i.e. Imam Webb. He is the reason why I took so much pain to move here and be near the ISBCC, despite the nostalgia associated with this city. Not that the mosque he presides over is any different than it was before, but the atmosphere is now different. The people are different. They are diverse. They are creatively and intellectually engaged. They are empowered. Young people especially women run the mosque and most of all, there are opportunities for people like me to learn. To learn more about this beautiful religion that has changed millions of lives since its birth. To learn about my rights as a woman so that no man can ever oppress me in the name of religion. Here I have opportunities to question in a judgment-free zone. Where I am told that I should not be ashamed of asking questions and that there is no stupid question because every question yields an answer. On a side note, I think he's a lot of fun too and that's why the youth are attracted to be around him. E.g. thanks to him and Shaykh Abdul Nasir Jangda, I am finally aware of American football. Dude! That's an achievement now!

A friend told me to not attach so much value to an individual and she is completely right. Even in his own words Imam Webb asked us to "attach ourselves to the message, not the messenger (unless he is the Prophet or one of those qualified to be emulated, which I'm not.)" The point isn't the attachment. The point is the intellectual and spiritual guidance. I still can't forget the day two years ago when a dear non-Muslim friend visited the ISBCC and unfortunately wasn't provided the answers he was looking for. Once he finished reading a book given to him by the store-owner of the mosque, someone definitely not qualified to handle a scientist from Harvard, he declared, "Truthfully speaking, Sidra, I am disappointed!"

I know a Muslim should not think of the "what ifs" but what if Imam Webb was there? Would both of us actually have been better catered? Would the first impression be the last impression for many of those who try to reach out but then return empty-handed? Imam Webb is only an individual but with his vision at Ella Collins Institute, I am sure that some of us will be able to inshaAllah empower ourselves like generations that followed after Prophet Muhammad pbuh. Those people were scientists and Muslims (e.g. Ibn Sina - more commonly known as Avicenna), philosophers and Muslims (e.g. Imam Al-Ghazali) mathematicians and Muslims (e.g. al-Khwarizmi, the father of algebra) and on and on and on. So the question is: What holds us back in excelling in our respective fields along with excellence in Islam? Why do science and the church always have to be at a war and why does religion have to be another "social construct?"

In short, this is why I have moved here so that I can be empowered to be a great human being along with being able to answer all these difficult questions that today's youth struggles to answer. Alhamdolillah (all praise to God), my housing and other logistics are still not sorted out but time and time again I remind myself that I am here for a greater good and insha'Allah my Sustainer will provide for me even if my limited perception cannot foresee it now. SubhanAllah, my nomadic life has taught me extreme humility and has helped me comprehend the true essence of the the Prophet's words:

"Be in this world like a traveler."

It has helped me realize that I may think that my problems are the greatest, but there were and are people out there who have it worse. Even in this world, you only get what your reap. You study hard, you pass. You don't, you fail. As as my thesis advisor warned me before my thesis defense, "Remember, the best of the students always get a tough time from us. We just want to test you how good you are!"

Similarly, no one gets a free ride to paradise either. Allah says in the Quran:

"Or think you that you will enter Paradise without such (trials) as came to those who passed away before you? They were afflicted with severe poverty and ailments and were so shaken that even the Messenger and those who believed along with him said, "When (will come) the Help of Allah?" Yes! Certainly, the Help of Allah is near!" - Quran 2:214

That gives me a perspective that even if the chosen men i.e. messengers of God had to cry, "When will the help of Allah come?" then indeed, I need to tell myself too, "Yes! Certainly, the Help of Allah is near!"

And just like that, I conclude my post for tonight. I have been doing some great stuff in Boston: making new friends, have met inspiring Muslim artists, went to a synagogue to attend an interfaith political action, and most importantly have been taking classes at the Ella Collins Institute. All those adventures deserve another post but for now, I request everyone to make duas for my friend and her family who have been so generous and hospitable to host me. May Allah swt make things easy for them and give them expanse in this world and the hereafter. May Allah swt reward their family with a beautiful home in paradise and may He give us all the company of the righteous in this life as well as the life after. Ameen.