Statue of Lady Justice in London

There is a saying: ““Choose love and peace will follow. Choose peace and love will follow.”

As Muslims we also understand that justice and fairness are vital, and I think this is one of the distinguishing factors of our deen (our Islamic way of life). Other religions speak of love, but do not emphasize justice. But when people are brutalized and oppressed, what does it mean to speak of love or peace? When a man has has boot on another man’s neck, while he loots his home and hurts his family, does it mean anything to tell the victim to be peaceful?

No, without justice you can never have peace. That’s why Lady Justice carries a sword in one hand and a balance in the other. The sword represents the authority of law to enforce peace and punish criminals. But the sword would be meaningless without the balance, which indicates the principles fairness on which laws must be built. This representation of justice is common, and in some versions the lady is blindfolded, indicating the justice should be applied equally to all regardless of race or social status.

War, bigotry and hatred are not the original condition of humanity. They are not inevitable. They don’t represent the natural state of the human heart.

1. War is almost always a product of greed and selfishness.
2. Bigotry is not a natural human trait, but is usually bred and whipped up by cynical leaders looking to exploit people’s ignorance for personal aggrandizement. People like Hitler, or Slobodan Milosevic, or the politicians and radio hosts who whipped up genocidal hatred in Rwanda, or even Sarah Palin. These people exploit ignorance, and not only cater to it but feed it, for political gain.
3. Hatred is not the original human condition, but a product of oppression and suffering.

Treat people fairly, be honest, and do not covet what is not yours, and there will be no war. Peace is not an elusive dream, or a mysterious goal at the end of some obscure path. The road to peace is obvious, but it takes radical honesty, and total justice.

So I would amend the saying to, “Act justly and peace will follow. Choose peace and love will follow.”

Someone posted this question recently on an Islamic forum that I belong to:

There all kinds of people coming to Islam. There are some that even convert in huge masses (20+ people). It’s the fastest growing religion in the UK and USA. Just visit Youtube. How is that a religion that is put down in the media constantly is the most popular choice today?

Let me put it in marketing terms to start. I don’t want to cheapen our deen which is the most beautiful way of life, ordained for humanity by Allah. But most people in this consumer culture of the West understand marketing concepts.

In the marketing industry they say that there is no such thing as bad publicity. That may or may not be true, but I do believe it is true when you have a quality product. Islam is a quality product.

I have heard of many people who initially wanted to learn more about this “terrible religion” that gets so much bad press. So they picked up a book on Islam or a copy of the Quran, began reading, and SubhanAllah, were guided to the truth.

That’s the way of it.

Throwing a rubber ball at the ground

This deen is a clarion call, it is the sunlight through the clouds. It is manifest truth. As much as the enemies of Allah try to badmouth Islam, they only serve its cause. As Allah says (paraphrasing) in the Quran, they desired to extinguish the light of Allah with their mouths, but Allah will complete His light, though the disbelievers may detest it.

Someone once said to me that those who try to damage Islam are like someone throwing a rubber ball down on the ground. The harder they throw it, trying to smash it, the higher it bounces back in the air.

When I say there’s no such thing as bad publicity, that doesn’t mean that I am happy about things like terrorist attacks, “honor killings”, female genital mutilation and other bad actions that bring bad publicity to Islam. I despise those acts and I utterly condemn them, not only because they damage the image of Islam and make life harder for Muslims, but because they are evil in themselves, and they bring suffering to innocent people.

No, when I say there’s no such thing as bad publicity, I am thinking more of the lies that are told about Islam. Hateful preachers who insult the Prophet (peace be upon him); or the often-made false claim that Islam was spread by the sword; or the bigoted epithets (like “Islamofascists”) that are used to try to discredit Islam in the eyes of the public. In the end, all these lies will fail, because truth is clear from falsehood.

Quran 61:8

(8) They want to extinguish the light of Allah with their mouths, but Allah will perfect His light, although the disbelievers dislike it.

(9) It is He who sent His Messenger with guidance and the religion of truth to manifest it over all religion, although those who associate others with Allah dislike it.

(Umm Muhammad translation)

The enemies of Islam think that Allah’s light is like a candle that can be blown out with the breath from their mouths, by propagating false rumors and lies about this deen. They might as well try to blow out the light of the sun. Allah’s light is far more powerful even than that.

Quran is a light

“O humankind, there has come to you a conclusive proof from your Lord, and We have sent down to you a clear light.” (Quran 4:174)

Allah has manifested His light in the revelation of the Quran. It is an eternal book, protected by Allah, unchanged, shedding light like a lamp that never runs dry. It illuminates the souls of those who read it and practice it, and so light spreads in the world, purifying it.

That’s why the Messenger of Allah (pbuh) said, “The best amongst you are those who learn the Quran and teach it.” [Al-Bukhaari] Because the Quran is the source of guidance and a light, and by spreading it we ensure the victory of Islam over oppression, we perpetuate Truth in the world, and we offer guidance to the lost.

The Quran is also a source of internal peace. Recitation and contemplation of the Quran soothes the heart and carries away the stresses of life, and it brings one closer to Allah. That’s why the Prophet (pbuh) said, “No people assemble in one of the houses of Allah, and recite and study the Book of Allah, except that tranquility prevails over them, mercy encompasses them, the angels surround them, and Allah makes a mention of them in the presence of those near Him.” [Muslim]

Wow. SubhanAllah.

So it’s not surprising when you hear stories from people who were non-Muslims; became curious about Islam due to the constant fear-mongering in the media; decided to pick up a Quran and check it out for themselves; and found themselves moved, and their hearts touched, so that they accepted Islam. It’s a very common story.

Trust in Allah

I started out by answering the question, “How does Islam continue to grow in the West in spite of all the negative press and lies?” Now I want to add a final message for my Muslim readers: Don’t despair when you see the forces of falsehood arrayed in all their power against Islam. When you read about Muslims being oppressed in Palestine, Chechnya, East Turkestan (a Muslim province of China) and so many other places, you should feel pain and sympathy for your brothers and sisters, but don’t let your heart be filled with rage or hatred.

Don’t despair! Hatred and despair are the opposites of faith; they lead to corruption and are the fuel that drives evils like terrorism, where people cast aside the principles of their religion, and allow themselves to be seduced into blind violence, justifying it to themselves because they are so angry.

Trust that Allah will perfect His light. Do your part to serve the cause of Islam (that is key!), and then trust that Allah will manifest the Truth over all, no matter who stands against it. Trust also that Allah will guide you, and bring you into the light, and reward you in this life and the next.

In these next two verses there is a double message, one for the People of the Book (the Christians and the Jews), calling them to the light that Allah has revealed; and one to the believers, calling on them to “pursue His pleasure to the ways of peace…”, in other words to seek Allah’s pleasure through compassionate and righteous action on the paths of peace.

“O People of the Scripture, there has come to you Our Messenger making clear to you much of what you used to conceal of the Scripture and overlooking much. There has come to you from Allah a light and a clear Book; By which Allah guides those who pursue His pleasure to the ways of peace and brings them out from darknesses into the light, by His permission, and guides them to a straight path.” (Quran 5:15-16)

Passion and stamina are among the essential qualities of great innovators

This is an extremely interesting and inspiring essay that appeared in the BBC’s online news magazine. And since changing ourselves, and thereby changing the world, is a frequent focus of my articles here at IslamicSunrays.com, I felt this piece was a good fit. Maybe later I’ll use it as a springboard for a similar piece with a specifically orientation, Insha’Allah:

The secrets of changing the world

Transforming society is a feat that only a select few of us will ever accomplish. In the second of a series of articles about innovation, Stephen Sackur looks for common qualities that unite the genuine revolutionaries he has encountered.

I paid a brief visit to my teenage son’s school the other day. The sun was out and the air was thick with restless, hormonal energy.

If only we could tap into these kids’ hopes, dreams and creative urges, I mused, we could reinvigorate our jaundiced adult world.

It’s a tempting proposition, is it not? That all of us, in our youth, have the capacity to be innovators, free-thinkers, resolute refuseniks when it comes to accepting the status quo.

Tempting, but alas, illusory. Most of us figure out from a very early age that it’s safer to conform than rebel. We tend to go with the flow, rather than ask why it has to be so.

That’s why so many young people today tell pollsters their ambition in life is to be a celebrity, a sports star or a glamorous model. Yes, they want to be rich and famous, but they want success simply to fall into their laps. Change the world? Sounds too much like hard work.

But without innovators we’re stuck. Every new generation needs people determined to find a better way. Of thinking, doing, and living.

So I’ve set myself a task. I’m going to try to distil what I’ve learned from years of encounters on my TV interview programme, HARDtalk, with some of our planet’s great contemporary innovators.

Is it possible to find a common thread which runs through these diverse and daring minds whether it be in business, science or art?

Well, it’s worth a try. Here are the qualities that seem to separate us sheep from the innovative goats.

1. An indestructible will

True innovators know how to take a punch. When they get knocked down they come back stronger.

"True innovators know how to take a punch” Stephen Sackur

No-one better epitomises this thick-skinned obstinacy than James Dyson, one of Britain’s most innovative entrepreneurs.

For years he tried to persuade the world’s biggest manufacturers of household appliances that he’d invented a better, bagless vacuum cleaner. They didn’t want to know.

“They simply couldn’t see that what I had was different and better”, he reflects.

The pin-striped execs at the top of industry and finance told him his idea would never work, but he simply refused to believe them.

As a youth Dyson excelled as a long distance runner, and it was his “stamina and obtuseness”, in the face of repeated rejection which, he says, turned him into an inventor with a billion in the bank.

2. Passion beyond reason

Innovators have to have passion. Something more than greed, or a lust for power; they need to believe heart and soul in the value of the change they’re seeking.

Fazle Hasan Abed's passion has given hope to millions of disaster-hit Bangladeshis

Fazle Hasan Abed is perhaps not a household name across the globe, but he should be.

A Bangladeshi from a well-to-do family, he was a young executive in the oil industry when conflict and natural disaster left his country in ruins in the early 1970s.

His response? To leave his comfortable life to create a new kind of aid organisation.

He called it BRAC. It began making small loans to individuals desperate to launch a small business or give a child a chance of school.

“Microfinance” has since given hope to millions and allowed BRAC to become one of the world’s biggest development agencies.

Abed, a soft-spoken, unassuming man, acquired a knighthood and significant influence in his native Bangladesh.

Is that why he created BRAC? “Of course not”, he says. “It was just something I felt I had to do.”

3. Outrageous optimism

Innovators have to be optimists. And not just about their own ability to triumph over adversity.

Consciously or not, they have to have faith in the human race.

Otherwise, why bother?

Jimmy Wales built Wikipedia on the notion that human beings could be persuaded to share knowledge, not for material reward, but for the collective good.

When this open source encyclopaedia of the web was launched in 2001, it was dismissed as nothing more than a platform for fanatics and loons. Now it’s in the top 10 most visited websites in the world, and the only one which has steadfastly remained not-for-profit.

Wales’s belief that he could “create and distribute a free encyclopaedia of the highest possible quality to every single person on the planet in their own language” no longer sounds so far-fetched.

As for the notion that the human collective would find a way of distilling wisdom without distortion, manipulation and downright deceit… well, it sort of works.

There are errors and falsehoods in the Wikipedia, but not enough to make it useless, nor to make it vastly less reliable than the encyclopaedias put together by highly-paid experts.

4. A super-sized ego

Innovators do not suffer from low self-esteem. You want living proof? Spend an hour in the company of controversial bio-scientist Craig Venter.

Ego-nomics: Craig Venter's self-belief has done him no harm

He has the bulk and the macho presence of an ageing military veteran. Which he is.

He has an ego powerful enough to penetrate an underground nuclear bunker.

“A doctor can save a few hundred lives in a lifetime”, he once explained, “a researcher can save the whole world.”

Venter was a key player in the effort to map the human genome, but he fell out with fellow scientists, not least over his desire to patent and profit from man’s genetic blueprint.

Some scientists agonise about the ethical issues raised by genetic engineering; Venter appears to relish the prospect of “playing God”.

Already his team of researchers has “created life” by inserting a computer-generated genome into a pre-existing cell.

His determination to make money out of his cutting edge biology and his impatience with the scientific establishment have made him plenty of enemies, but this is a man whose steely gaze delivers a simple truth: He doesn’t care.

After all, he’s already created a life form that carries his name, and there’s no bigger ego trip than that.

5. The rebel yell

"I was messianic about punk, it was a way to put a spoke in the system” Vivienne Westwood

At its crudest innovation delivers a loud **** you” to the status quo.

In the mid-1970s the clothes designer Vivienne Westwood came up with one of the most innovative middle finger salutes ever delivered to the fashion establishment with her punk chic.

This working class girl from Derbyshire drew inspiration from, bikers, fetishists and prostitutes as she introduced the Sex Pistols and their hordes of followers to a world of chains, pins and bondage trousers.

“I was messianic about punk, it was a way to put a spoke in the system”, she says.

Westwood, who has turned her deeply idiosyncratic designs into a thriving worldwide business does what pleases her, rather than what is expected.

Famously, she wore a revealing dress with no knickers when picking up an honour from the Queen at Buckingham Palace.

And that’s an image that has somehow stuck with me. Innovators across cultures and continents share that rebel spirit – metaphorically, if not literally, they’re ready to go knickerless in front of the Queen.

“True religion shines from the face of the believer and impresses itself on others without words. It is subsequently followed by words that are uplifting and beneficial.” – Imam Zaid Shakir, Oakland California USA

Allah says in the Quran, Surat Al-Maaidah (5:48):

To each of you We prescribed a law and a method. Had Allah willed, He would have made you one nation [united in religion], but [He intended] to test you in what He has given you; so race to [all that is] good. To Allah is your return all together, and He will [then] inform you concerning that over which you used to differ.

The differences between us, differences of religion, ethnicity and nationality, are a test and a blessing. They are a part of Allah’s plan. If He had willed it, He could have made us all one single Ummah, with no disagreements and no variations, homogeneous like a field of grass, all blending together so that the eye could rest on any one person and he would look no different from any other. Allah could have made us all with the same language, same faces, eyes and hair, same customs and traditions, same cuisines, same art and architecture… But that doesn’t sound like a very interesting or exciting world, does it?

The religious differences among us are a test. The other differences are blessings.

Never let the vast variety of human tongues and traditions become a source of hostility, suspicion or despair. Never let the physical distances between us become a source of frustration. Be grateful for the beauty of a Tibetan monastery high in the Himalayas, or the tang of Thai curry, or the beating of the drum at an Indonesian wedding, or the great variety of cultures found in your own hometown. Be glad for the opportunity to be exposed to something different, and to let your mind open like a flower.

If the differences between people present a challenge, then welcome the challenge; Allah has given you that challenge for a reason, so look for the opportunity to learn. It is there.

Whatever you are doing–watching a movie, writing a book, giving a presentation, eating, or sleeping–you have to stay in God’s presence. If you feel a great loneliness and a deep longing for human contact, you have to be extremely discerning. Ask yourself whether this situation is truly God-given. Because where God wants you to be, God holds you safe and gives you peace, even when there is pain.

To live a disciplined life is to live in such a way that you want only to be where God is with you. The more deeply you live your spiritual life, the easier it will be to discern the difference between living with God and living without God, and the easier it will be to move away from the places where God is no longer with you.

The great challenge here is faithfulness, which must be lived in the choices of every moment. When your eating, drinking, working, playing, speaking, or writing is no longer for the glory of God, you should stop it immediately, because when you no longer live for the glory of God, you begin living your own glory. Then you separate yourself from God and do yourself harm.

Your main question should always be whether something is lived with or without God. You have your own inner knowledge to answer that question. Every time you do something that comes from your needs for acceptance, affirmation, or affection, and every time you do something that makes these needs grow, you know that you are not with God. These needs will never be satisfied; they will only increase when you yield to them. But every time you do something for the glory of God, you will know God’s peace in your heart and find rest there.

Moon over a beach at night

You are trying to sleep but you are restless. You wake up, and turn onto the other side. You can’t get comfortable. You wake up because you are too hot or too cold. There is some vague worry or uneasiness keeping you awake… Did you know there is a dua for those moments when you wake up in the dark, stirring restlessly?

Laa ‘ilaaha ‘illallaahul-Waahidul-Qahhaaru, Rabbus-samaawaati wal’ardhi wa maa baynahumal-’Azeezul-Ghaffaaru.

There is none worthy of worship but Allah, the One, the Victorious, Lord of the heavens and the earth and all that is between them, the All-Mighty, the All-Forgiving.

See the Arabic version here. (Reference: This is to be said if you turn over in bed during the night. Al-Hakim graded it authentic and Ath-Thahabi agreed 1/540. Also see An-Nasa’i, ‘Amalul-Yawm wal-Laylah, and Ibn As-Sunni. See also Al-Albani, Sahihul-Jami’ As-Saghir 4/ 213).

Isn’t that beautiful? Islam has a dua for every occasion and for anyone who sees that as a burden, you are missing the point. These duas are not a requirement or a burden, they are gifts. They are little gems, powerful invocations to bring your mind closer to Allah, ease your heart, and bring peace to your spirit.

A dua like this is a mercy from Allah, as if He is saying, here is a way to contact me when you are in need, here are beautiful words to comfort your soul.

SubhanAllah.

Center of the Milky Way galaxy, as seen from Cherry Springs State Park, one of the darkest places in the eastern USA. The Milky Way is a vast collection of more than 200 billion stars, planets, nebulae, clusters, dust and gas. Our own Sun and solar system are also part of the Milky Way galaxy. Brilliant Jupiter is the brightest "star" in the image, seen at left.

I Want

I want to travel back in time
and prevent my daughter
from jamming her toe in the shopping cart
and getting a blood bruise.
I want her to laugh so hard
she sprays her cereal and milk.
I want her never to shake her head
in shame or regret.
I want her to love Allah,
to raise hands in duaa,
to feel the deen in her veins
like a pulse.

I want my father
to be given the heart of a mustang,
and barring that
to welcome his Qadr with ease,
not squeezing his hands into fists
or cursing in pain.
Never mind what he thinks of me.
I want him to call on Allah
with joy and relief,
to find sweetness in the dusk of his life.
I want peace for him Yaa Allah;
caress him with endless rahma.

I want the Muslim people
to find their power, art,
science; and the quiet joy
of ‘ibadah and Allah’s love.
Let them step into the century
free from tyranny, standing tall
with Islam as hope and sword.
Let them drink from the bubbling spring
of the Quran.
Let them breathe.
Let them free themselves
and transform the world.

For myself, who knows?
Still I shake my head and laugh,
wondering who I am,
and when I’ll find my secret name.
I say with truth
that I don’t flinch,
no snarl crosses my face,
and I don’t lie about my past.
No acid fills my mouth. No fear,
no hate, no shame.
Instead, I want…
I want

to leap into the night sky
and grab a bushel of stars,
bring them to earth burning in my hands.
Once, in Tucson,
the morning sun turned everything
- the desert, the buildings,
even the men standing in line to eat -
yellow as an egg yolk.
I want to bottle that pure yellow
and drink it into my veins
until I’m hot and glowing
from heart to fingernails.

Laugh, I don’t care!
Yes I am a crazy man.
Let me tell you, somewhere
in a dingy cell a man is being beaten
and starved; somewhere
a sister is being raped;
I want to give my life
to put a stop to it,
and I offer it to Allah:
take it. I understand my words.
Use me for a purpose
and let me be remembered

for saving one life,
making one person weep in relief,
rescuing one soul from pain.
For myself I ask so little:
to be held in loving arms
and a sweet voice in my ear.
Is that too strange a dream?
To take a wife and hug her fiercely,
see my daughter learn the deen,
to graduate to black belt
after all these years.
To bring relief to pain…

For myself, so little.
In the end I forfeit all.
Yaa Allah, I surrender all
but your love! I give up
the stars and sun,
the run of time and coin,
and the embrace of love…
But for others:
my father, Salma,
and those I’ve lost; for the hurt and hungry
praying for relief… for them
I want, I want, I want.

- Wael Abdelgawad, July 2009

By Wael Abdelgawad for IslamicSunrays.com

I had a good friend who died badly. I would like to remember him fondly, to remember the good times we had together, but I cannot think of him without hating myself for not trying to save him. Let me tell you about him, so that you can know what a good man he was, and how he helped me.

I arrived in San Francisco on an afternoon flight from DFW on July 27, 1992. I was twenty seven years old, and I’d been away for many years.

Coming up highway 101 in the back of a Yellow Cab, I saw the fog flowing down the face of Mt. San Bruno. I saw the big sign etched on the jutting mountain: “South San Francisco: The Industrial City.” Home, I was home after so long. The joy in my heart was like a shout and I couldn’t contain it. I laughed out loud, right there in the back seat of the cab. I saw the driver looking at me in the rear view mirror like I was a crazy man. I just looked out the window and smiled.

I hadn’t walked the City’s boulevards in a long time. There seemed to be more trash than I remembered, and many more homeless people and panhandlers. I no longer had friends in the Bay Area, so I went to the YMCA on Golden Gate, in the heart of the Tenderloin, and rented a room for $100 a week. It was a tiny space, so small I could stretch my arms out and almost touch both walls.

I wasn’t sure what kind of work I would do, maybe something with computers, as I had picked up assorted computer skills over the years. I really wanted to work with homeless and runaway youth, and I made the rounds of all the shelters and special schools in the city. I’d bought a new bicycle so I could get around, and I rode to youth shelters in every part of town, from the Richmond to Bayview. But Reagan’s “trickle-down”, steal-from-the-poor-and-give-to-the-rich idiocy had done its dirty work. No one was hiring, no one had any funds, and in fact many of them were cutting staff.

I had met a young man by the name of Joe, a thin but handsome fellow with happy eyes and a burst of (dyed) blond hair. We had become good friends. He was in a halfway house on Taylor Street, in the sleaziest part of the Tenderloin, where he’d been sentenced for a few months for drunk driving. He was a gentle man, quiet, with a good heart and a good mind, but he had a problem with booze. His driver’s license had been suspended, but he got around pretty well on a big yellow mountain bike. The halfway house staff would Breathalyze him every day, so he wasn’t drinking.

In the evenings I’d meet Joe for dinner, and we’d talk. I’d tell him about my years as a wanderer, and about my current job search. He would listen attentively, occasionally making a comment or sympathetic remark. He was genuinely interested in everything I had to say.

Finding a friend who truly listens and cares is, I think, like finding a 24-carat gold nugget on the sidewalk.

Joe suggested that I take a job as a bike messenger until I found something better. I didn’t know anything about it, but Joe was a dispatcher for a messenger company, so he knew the business inside and out. It sounded like fun. Joe told me exactly where to go to get hired, and before a week was out I was grunting and sweating as I hauled packages up every hill in San Francisco. The wages were paltry, and I kept getting hurt, but Joe gave me a lot of valuable tips, and I persevered, and eventually I came to love it more than any job I’d ever done.

In those first several months in the City I experienced a lot of ups and downs, and I’m not only talking about the hills of San Francisco. Joe was a wonderful friend. He comforted me through the bad times, and shared the pleasure of my successes. Until one day when he failed his Breathalyzer test and was put in jail and extradited to Baltimore, his home town, as a parole violator. He would call me collect from the Baltimore jail, and I was always happy to talk to him. I realize, writing this, that he probably sounds like a terrible guy, a real loser, but that wasn’t how I saw him at all. He had a kind soul.

Joe’s Return and New Family

He was released a year later, and it was a great day for me. We’d both changed a little. I had developed from a struggling rookie to one of the best messengers in San Francisco, and then to a dispatcher, and I helped Joe get a job at the company I worked for. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

I had rented a small studio apartment on Market Street, and was trying to save money to start my own business. Twice a week I volunteered with a local center for homeless youth, doing outreach to the street kids, trying to get them into the center and back with their families when appropriate.

Joe had gained a little weight, and when I mentioned it he told me it was a result of quitting heroin. I was shocked. I had no idea. How naive I was. Joe told me that heroin had been his lifelong nemesis. He said that the bliss that he had experienced from heroin dwarfed every other pleasure in his life, and that it would always haunt him. He still thought about it every day and always would, like a lover he could never forget. But he’d been clean for a while, and like a fool I trusted that he had “beat” it. Or maybe I didn’t know how to talk to him about it.

As a Muslim, I was doing my salat (my prayers), but I was at a weak point. I had few Muslim friends in S.F. The masjid was far from my house, a 40 minute bike ride uphill to the Outer Mission. It was difficult being on my own in that way. I’d work hard all day long, blazing up and down the city streets, covering tens of miles in one day, and I’d do my salat on my breaks, on any sidewalk or parking lot where I happened to be. Then I’d go home to my tiny studio apartment and write, write, write. I’d pour out my heart in short stories and poetry.

Joe and his son at the Pumpkin Festival, a few days before Joe died

Joe settled in. He had a girlfriend who loved him, and before long they had a baby boy. They rented a nice loft South of Market. They were making a life for themselves.

Drug use is common in the messenger subculture, and I’d occasionally see Joe hanging in front of Harvey’s Liquors with a bad crowd. I worried, but I’ve never been one to pry. If a friend wants to share, great, but if not then I mind my own business.

And I tended to see Joe in an artificially smooth light, I think. He’d always been so compassionate and wise with me, that it was hard for me to switch our roles and be his advisor. Now I look back and I think that I was such a rotten friend. He gave me so much, and when it counted I gave him nothing in return.

Maybe I should have shared the deen (the Islamic way of life) with Joe. I should have reached out to him. Isn’t that the true meaning of friendship, to care not only for a person’s physical well being, but for his wounded, immortal soul?

But I needed help myself. Although I was prospering in my work, I was in a lot of pain internally, struggling to come to terms with traumatic experiences from my past. I needed someone to reach an arm to me, and in my state I didn’t perceive Joe’s inner needs.

The Last Time I Saw Him

In 1996 I hung out with him at the Pumpkin Festival on Polk Street. His girlfriend and son were there, and I took pictures of all three. His little boy was just beautiful, a very happy and handsome kid with blue eyes and willowy blonde hair.

Joe’s mother, who I had never met before, was there too, and I told her how much I respected and admired Joe, and how good he’d always been to me. I bought an Australian cowboy hat, and Joe told me it looked very hip. He insisted that I should come see their new apartment on Folsom Street, that it was very cool.

A week later a friend approached me as I was sitting on the Wall downtown, where all the messengers stand by between runs. He told me that Joe had overdosed on heroin, and was dead.

You know how people say, “If you could do it over again, what would you differently?” I’ve made some awful mistakes in my life, and if I could turn the clock back I could save myself a lot of hardship.

But I don’t care about that. There’s only one thing I want to change. I want to wind the clock back to October 1996, to a sunny day at a street fair on Polk Street, where my friend Joe is still alive and is watching his son ride the little train in the kiddy carnival. I want to say, “Hey, Joe, what’s going on with you? You know I love you. If there’s anything wrong in your life I want you to tell me about it. You’ve been so good to me, and now I want to give a little back. Look around you, Joe. You’ve got so much to live for.”

I’m not naive enough to think that I could have solved Joe’s problem when his own beautiful family couldn’t. But maybe if I could go back just long enough to say those words, then I could live with what came after, and I could stop hating myself for failing my friend in the worst way, and I could take my Australian cowboy hat out of the closet, put it on my head, and remember the good times I had with Joe.

Wael Abdelgawad, February 1999
Oakland, California

Postscript: Moving Beyond Blame

I wrote the piece above over ten years ago. It has taken me almost these entire ten years to learn to forgive myself. I still sometimes see someone on the street who looks like Joe, and I have a moment of excitement, then I remember that he is gone. But I don’t blame myself anymore. I made a mistake, but I’m not responsible for Joe putting a needle in his arm. With everything he had to live for, he had no excuse. If having a family, friends and freedom wasn’t enough of a joy for him, then it’s unlikely that anything I said would have made a difference.

I don’t want to blame Joe either. He lost the battle against his internal demons, and that is enough to say. I still love him. I guess I’ve gotten beyond blame, to a place of understanding or acceptance. I’m able to think of Joe with gratitude, and with no bitterness or regret to color it. I originally titled this piece, “Trying to Remember the Good Times”, but if I had written it today I might call it, “Remembering a Kind Soul.”

That’s the miracle and glory of the human heart. That is one of the countless blessings of Allah. He gives us hearts that heal, and spirits that forgive, and Time, our dear friend, who carries away all wounds in the gentle sweep of its current.

“Allah said: ‘Sons of Adam inveigh against [the vicissitudes of] Time, but I am Time, in My hand is the night and the day.’” (hadith qudsi, agreed upon)

If Allah is Time, and Allah is Ar-Rahman ir-Raheem, then time is  a mercy and a blessing. The passage of time is a balm and a cure.

I try to do better now in reaching out to anyone I care about who might be in pain. I try to express something about the deen to the non-Muslims in my life. I don’t preach, but I share my enthusiasm for Islam in small ways, and I offer a perspective that includes Allah.

If I could go back, what would I do differently? I have come to realize that the question serves no purpose. The Polk Street festival is a memory, a day in history, an image on a fading photo. Agonizing over it does not help.

A better question is, what will I do differently today? What will I do differently tomorrow, when the California sun comes up blazing, and the world is new again, and I am blessed beyond belief with another opportunity to redeem my soul, and to love my family and friends, and to prostrate to Allah, and to change the world? What will I do differently then?

That’s all that matters.

“And put your trust in Him Who lives and dies not; and celebrate His praise; and enough is He to be acquainted with the faults of His servants.” – Quran, 25:58

Wael Abdelgawad, June 15, 2010
Fresno, California