Assalamualaikum my sweetheart, who may Allah love, guard and protect. I praise Allah for there is no god but Him. May the peace and blessings of Allah be upon Muhammad, who was sent as a mercy to all of humanity, upon his family, companions and on all those who hold fast to the deen until the Day of Judgement.
My child, I pray that you are in the pink of health and in the best of iman. As I write this, you are yet to be born. I have no clue what your name is, how old you will grow up to be and what age you will be when you finally read this. The only thing I know about you now is that I already love you so much and I am dying to meet you. If these lines could magically transform into arms, I would give you a big bear hug right now, and hold you tight. But I’m stuck in the past, and you’re stuck in the future.
I wonder sometimes, whether you will stumble upon this letter by yourself, or whether you are old enough to understand what I am penning down. If not now, then wait till you’re older and read it again. I knew that one day you would open up my old writings in this blog of mine, maybe to know what I was like back in the day. What sort of person I was before I became your dad, what used to occupy my worried mind.
If you’re curious, then know that I had dreams too. I was once young like you. I had a whole life ahead of me, just waiting for me. I wanted to be a scientist, a philosopher. I traveled, I met people, I tried out different things. I was a little foolish and naive. I have had my fair share of ups and downs in life. I have had false friends and real enemies. I still remember the time I left for New Zealand, at that time I felt like I was on top of the world. And that feeling lasted forever. But I met stumbling blocks along the way too, I learnt the true meaning of friendship, loyalty and trust.
I think about you alot lately, my dear. Am I a good father to you? Do I bathe you and put your clothes on for you? Do I feed you and read you to sleep? Do I teach you how to ride a bike? Do I braid your hair? Do I scold you too often? Do I tickle you too much? Do I hug you too little? Do I hold your hand when you cross the street? Do I pick you up when you fall? Do I kiss your paper cuts and plaster them? Do I get angry when you spill coffee on my shirt? I really want to know.
How am I to mom? Do I take good care of her? Does she pray beside me? The day she was pregnant with you was the happiest day of my life. Did you know she loves you like I do, if not more. I wonder how I managed to take care of her while you were still in her tummy, my world turned upside down and inside out. I’ve never taken care of a pregnant woman! For bearing with me, your mom is my hero. And for bearing you, she is your queen.
My child, this is my first letter addressed especially for you, and if Allah wills, there will be more to come. Dearest, may the peace and blessings of Allah be upon you when you live with a proper intention and a noble purpose, and when you seek knowledge with a sound endeavor and to a dedicated cause. May the peace and blessings of Allah be upon you as you serve Islam with the finest fruits of your talents. Let the beauty of what you love be what you do.
Missing you, from the past,