Today, I share a personal moment, the passing of my mother. This is not a departure from my usual purpose, but part of it. Faith is not formed only in study halls and sermons; it is tested, deepened, and clarified in the most intimate moments of life. If these words resonate with you, comfort you, or inspire you, then this personal reflection has served its purpose.
The Morning Life Changed
Last Friday morning, I spoke to my sister in Pakistan at 8 am and asked how mum was. She switched on the camera, and I saw she was struggling. Then at 8:30 am, she rang and broke the sad news, our mother had gone. It was strange, as though nothing had happened, senses numb, yet the mind alert. Thanks to social media, the news spread within minutes.
One of my close friend, Mazhar Butt, immediately contacted a travel agent and booked a flight for my wife and me, so we could attend the Janaza. When we arrived in the village, my three brothers, sister and nephews from Halifax were already there. By 11 am, we were at the side of the bier, and my mother lay there peacefully. It was surreal, jarring and unreal. She was breathing and living when we saw her last. What is this? Someone read “to Allah we belong and to him we will be returning.”
The Final Walk Through the Village
After the Zuhr congregation, we lifted the lightweight bier of my mother and, with a throng of hundreds of people, left my sister’s house. The womenfolk cried and poured their heartfelt emotions as they mournfully wailed. This reminded me of the hadith reported by Asma bint Yazid, when the bier of Sa’ad ibn Muadh was lifted, his mother wailed, the Messenger (peace be upon him) said, “Stop crying now, Allah smiled for your son as the mighty throne trembled” (Tabrani). The dignified procession sombrely made its way through the narrow alleyways where once she would have played.
The graveyard is outside the village, here my five generations rest. The souls of her mother and father, and other relatives waiting to welcome her. I led the Janaza prayer after a brief sermon, hundreds of hands were raised in solemn repentance to seek Divine forgiveness and grace from the Mighty Lord for mother. (Read my funeral sermon HERE).
Finally, we were at the edge of the freshly dug grave. My nephew, Muzzammil, took the emaciated, tiny body that endured more than a century of trials and tribulations. Mother was wrapped in white sheets, which she had washed in the water of Zamzam during her last Umrah. Finally, she was laid to rest in her grave. Perhaps the way she would have laid me and her other children in a cot so many times. This will be her abode now till Israfeel blows the final trumpet.
Eulogy and Thanks for Motherhood
Without the mother, the world feels colder and the heart emptier, as though tormented. How can a child honour their mother for her affection, her quiet moral nurturing, shaping conscience? Mother was my greatest educator who taught without a classroom, whose love formed character long before we learnt words.
When Dr Muhammad Iqbal, the poet-philosopher of Pakistan, was a student in Cambridge (1905-1908), he received a telegram that his mother had died. Imagine the sorrow of a traveller, a sole student in a foreign land, without family or friends. What immense sadness? There was no Pakistan International Airlines to bring him home to Sialkot to attend her funeral.
How times have changed. But we get a glimpse into the mind of this genius when we read his poem ‘In Memory of My Late Mother’. He wrote this to express his grief, but he did not begin with tears. Iqbal began with the truth. He reminds us that every atom in the universe moves under Allah’s decree. The sun, the moon, and the stars all follow paths not of their own choosing. Human beings, for all their intelligence and planning, are no exception. Dying, therefore, is not a mistake in the system of life; it is part of its design.
The Majestic Quran says, “The Blessed One has authority, complete control, and power over all things. He created death and life to test you, who among you will do good works. He is the Almighty, the Forgiver; He created the Seven Heavens, layer upon layer” (Al-Mulk: 1-2). So, death is not an interruption to life’s journey; it is a certainty built into it. Iqbal reminds us that not only human beings, but the entire cosmos, sun, moon, and stars move under Allah’s decree. Death is not a malfunction in the order of existence; it is part of its wisdom. (Read full poem HERE).
The Majestic Motherhood
The loss of a mother leaves the world colder, success emptier, and the soul more exposed. Islam does not ask us to deny this pain; it teaches us how to carry it. Iqbal’s grief flows exactly along this Quranic path. He does not protest against the natural order set in motion by the Mighty Lord. He does not accuse fate nor blame it. His sorrow turns into prayer. This reflects the teaching of the Messenger of Allah (peace be upon him), who wept at the death of his child and said: “The eyes shed tears and the heart grieves, but we say only what pleases our Lord.”
Islam does not forbid tears; it forbids despair. The Messenger (peace be upon him) taught us that when a believer remains patient at the loss of a beloved, the reward is Paradise. Death, then, is a moment of spiritual elevation. The Prophet (peace be upon him) also taught us to view death not as disappearance, but as a passage. He described it as a bridge to the everlasting life. We are reminded, the grave is either a garden of Paradise or a pit of Hell.
Final words
What can be a response to the loss of a mother? Certainly not arguing with Allah, nor complaining, no bitterness. Instead, grief turns into prayer. Tears fall, but faith remains intact. This is not passive resignation; it is dignified submission, Islam. In a world that tells us to either suppress pain or rage against it, Islam offers a positive way to grieve and cry, but with awareness, humility, and trust. Loss becomes a teacher. Death becomes a reminder. May Allah grant forgiveness to my wonderful mother, all our parents, heal hearts that mourn, and teach us to meet life’s hardest moments faithfully. Iqbal ends his long eulogy on motherhood with this couplet: “May the heavens scatter dew on your resting place and may fresh green growth forever keep watch over this home”. Ameen!
Discover more from UGNEWS
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Leave a Reply