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A Ramadhan To Remember

It isn't always that one gets an insight from God, I assume. I have lived almost 46 years, and throughout the adult years, I yearned to be close to Allah. There were occassions of course when I was; the three times I was in Makkah counted as all of them. But here in Malaysia, I wanted to, sometimes I cried in wanting to, but I was never able to be as close to Him as I wanted to. I blame myself, really. But then, Ramadhan 2015 came. Something about the last day of Sya'aban led me to the mosque for one of the afternoon prayers. I had just come back days before from Milan and London, and in the long flight home via Doha, the passenger next to me spoke to me. Not literally, but he prayed during the flight. Its quite uncommon to see that, as Muslims are given leave from prayers during travel. Of course, in modern day travel, I guess praying should not be an issue. But while he prayed, I was watching a movie. I felt bad. I started thinking. I have had a blessed life. Parents that cared for all five of us well, and provided always the best they could. We travelled the world. We ate always the best food. We had a good life. In my adult life too, I have held good jobs that paid me well. I have two kids that I love very much, and care for me in their own way. I have a wife that makes me feel more married that I have ever been, with due respect to my former wives that I cared and loved for during the two marriages. Anyway, Ramadhan came, and I knew I said a silent prayer to myself about making this "the" Ramadhan where I hijrah to a better Muslim. I say that silently every year, but this year, I just knew that my resolve was different. And so it came to be that every midday prayer in the weekdays - bar a few - I was at a mosque in a congregation. And so it came to be that I said more tarawih prayers this year than in any other adult year before. And so it came to be that I did not miss a single prayer that is wajib on Muslims during Ramadhan. On the first day of Syawal, I cried at the mosque, in thanking Allah for bestowing me a Ramadhan to remember. I cried fearing that I may not get another Ramadhan. I cried so much that the Bangladeshi next to me genuinely looked afraid. That morning too, as I did many times over Ramadhan, my thoughts went to a person that told me my calling would come. This was said to me as I spoke of my admiration of the person's discipline in saying the daily prayers. The person remains an inspiration, and is in my prayers daily. Alhamdulillah, the discipline carried on beyond 40 days, and I am glad that bar one prayer on the 25th of July that I missed due to being delayed on duty, it has been a continued journey of faith for me. I wake up daily saying my thanks to Him for the gift of Ramadhan 2015, and ask for more such Ramadhans for years to come. I have sinned in forgetting my prayers. I have sinned so many ways. For all the rezeki I have been bestowed, surely my prayer is the least I can do. I hope you join me in praying for my journey. Thank you.

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