His Journey

BY FARZANA HASSAN *

The winding path across the undulation was beginning to wear him off as he doggedly trudged across the clearing towards the relative safety of the forest. Declared a heretic in his hometown, losing love, friendship, kin, money and above all hope, Rahi had decided to remove himself from the almost certain annihilation that he faced.

It was that day in late summer when the air begins to welcome the coolness of the night— much needed relief to his weary limbs and perspiring brow. As soon as he reached the wooded area, he realized he couldn’t go any further, for he was worn and dejected.  His throat parched, his body depleted of every drop of fluid, he almost swooned to the thorny ground as he sat.

Then, as if from nowhere, he felt a flutter on his shoulder.  Startled, he wondered if he was hallucinating, for people often hallucinate when reeling between life and death.  But the kind old woman now standing before him was real. Draped in a flowing brown mantle, holding a cup of water in her hand, she was no figment of his imagination.

“Have a sip, my friend” she said. “I know you have travelled long and lost much.”

How did she know? He wondered as he gulped the cool water to quench the deadening thirst. 

“You bare the burden of the world upon your shoulders. Why would you seek refuge in these woods?” She continued.

“And you” he asked after he regained strength to talk. “What brings you here”?

But she chose silence.

Her silver-grey curls rested serenely on her brown mantle--a mantle of wisdom he thought.  At once he knew it was fate that had brought them together. Yet he was no believer in fate, knowing it was the choices he had made that brought such infamy to him. He asked her if she believed in it.

“What is fate but an outcome of the choices we make?” Don’t we carve our own fate?”

Her response prompted Rahi to question her further, as he was not one to ever accept assumptions.

“Yes, but aren’t we destined to make certain choices, based on our propensities?” He argued.

“Indeed. To some extent” She answered. “We are born with certain proclivities which determine our choices. But then there are times when we must go against them to accomplish something worthwhile in life.  We still have that choice don’t we?

She was right, he concluded.  What else did this mysterious woman know?

“Is love a reality?” He asked as he reclined against the bark to rest his weary back.

“Love is the only possession that increases when you share it with others” she responded.

“Yes, I have heard that before, but what is love?” he urged.

“It is a mother’s care for her helpless newborn.  It is only her love that moves her to care for that tiny creature left at her mercy—the very same creature who interrupts her sleep and feeds off her like a leach. Love is that constant yearning for the beloved.  It is a husband’s daily toil to provide and care for his wife.  It is a friend’s testimony, absolving his friend from wrongdoing.”

“If it is all of what you say it is then why is it so fragile?” Rahi couldn’t hold back tears when he asked her this question.  Reminiscing those nights spent with Sarah under an enchanted sky summoned feelings that had long since been buried.

Why is it so fragile?” tell me, he asked her again.

“Sometimes love is another name for self-love. We love only because it leads us back to ourselves.  We see our hopes reflected in our object of adoration. We love them because they love us back. When they deny us their love it begins to break.”

“And what of hate?”  He continued.

Hate is not much different from love.  We hate only those we love. The more we love the more we hate when our loved ones disappoint us.  But let not hate make a permanent abode in your heart. That is when it turns into malice and treachery. Don’t worry though; hate shall not touch you if you choose to ignore it. 

But hate had touched him already he thought--hate, betrayal and treachery by his own.

“And what of friendship?” he continued as he sighed...

“Friends are the companions of one’s mindless hours. Love them while they please you and let them go serenely when it is time for them to leave. Yet choose them carefully. Your friends may become your worst enemies. They know your shortcomings.”

Rahi knew this all too well.  Wasn’t it his own friends who had turned their backs on him?  It was his friends who had left him destitute.  They are the ones who slandered and maligned him.  He faced imprisonment and death because of them.

“And what of death”? He asked as he reflected on his worries.

“The only thing certain in life is death. Do not think of it as an end to existence.  Keep hope alive in it as a new beginning.  Perhaps it is a new beginning in another realm.

“Is there another realm?” he asked.

“I don’t know if there is.  But we must die believing in another realm and a worthier existence. Wouldn’t that make death easier?”

He wasn’t sure. This world was full of sickness, disease, treachery, poverty and sorrow, he thought.  Was there a reason to believe an afterlife would be better? He was no longer the “eternal optimist” he was often referred to by his friends.

And what of human suffering?” Why is there so much suffering?” he asked acutely aware of his own.

“I cannot answer this question, my friend.  I could not find an answer to this question which is why I chose seclusion in the woods. I saw suffering all around me which is why I abandoned love, life and hope.” She sighed too as she spoke those words.

“And what of hope”

Hope is a treasure.  I chose to abandon it.  But know this, that it will never abandon you unless you choose to do so yourself.  It will remain yours for as long as you wish.

Now much is said and you are tired.”

And with that she took off her mantle and covered him with it.

All he could feel now was exhaustion. Living had caused him exhaustion.

“Rest a while” she whispered as she vanished from his sight with a promise to fetch him  food.

“Wait” he said. “I don’t even know your name.”

But not a sound could be heard from the darkness, uncertainty and stillness of the night that now engulfed him. He shut his eyes and a deep sleep came over him.

He was awakened by the sound of chirping birds. He realized he had slept all night. The sun’s rays warmed his body and he removed the old woman’s mantle from above him with a quick brush.  Beside him lay a basket of fruits from the forest.

Searching here and there for the old woman, he ran franticly in different directions.  He wanted so much to return her mantle to her-- a mantle of wisdom he thought.

But she was no where to be seen, although rested now, he could see around him more clearly. 

The old wise woman had made her choice.  Now it was time for him to make his. Was he going to abandon life, love and above all hope?

He turned back from whence he came, for he needed an answer.

____________

Farzana Hassan is President of the Muslim Canadian Congress, author and host of the radio program - Islam: Faith and Culture.