Introduction to Asma ul Husna

The Empty Canvas 

I was in the middle of painting the silhouette of the woman covered head to toe by the beach at sunset, a project which I’d been working on for the past few days, when I got the call. It was from an unknown number. I swiped it and carefully picked the phone using just the tips of my thumb and my index finger to make sure to not transfer the paint I had on my hand to the phone and placed it between my ear and my shoulder, freed my hand and resumed my work while I said,

“Hello?”

“Hi. Assalamualaikum. Am I talking to sister Sofiyyah?”

“Walaikumsalaam. Yes, you are. May I know who this is?”

“Well… I’m Rubaiyya. I don’t really know how to put this… but I need to talk to you and seek your advice on something. I got a proposal. You know the man. I want to ask you about him. His name is Abdur Rahman. He is…”

My heart began to beat in a different way when I heard the name. As though it instantly picked up on the strange yet close familiarity of its sound. My hand suddenly stopped stroking on the canvas. I put the paintbrush on the table and stood up, not being able to figure out completely how my heart was reacting to it and why it was reacting the way it did. I slowly started walking.

“Hmm… I get it. What is it that you would like to know about him? I’ll be honest InshaAllah, because I know I’m Islamically obliged to, as it’s a marriage proposal..”

“Well, I want to know why it didn’t work out between the two of you. I want to know if there’s anything about him that I must be wary of. I want to make sure I’m not making a mistake by getting into it. And I couldn’t think of anyone else I could get these info from other than his ex-wife. I know it’s weird. But I figured I’d rather be weird than be sorry.”

Despite the way my heart was still reacting, I couldn’t help smiling as I listened to her. She was not weird, she was bold. And wise, MashaAllah. I started to like her already.

“I understand Rubaiyya and if anything, I can only commend you for what you are doing.

Abdurrahman is not a bad man. In fact, he’s a decent man. He has many qualities. And no one is perfect anyway. The reason our marriage broke is not because he did something, but because he didn’t. As our counsellor put it, our marriage broke not due to commission and but due to omission. To cut to the chase, he took me and our marriage for granted. He thought this marriage and I will always be around even if he didn’t invest in us. So he got busy investing himself in things he didn’t take for granted, leaving me and our marriage to be on our own. Our marriage was standing on one leg. Me. When that leg got tired and weak and less resilient, it fell. And he came to his senses and realised it only when it had totally collapsed. Even though he then ran to its rescue, the leg had been irreparably broken.

However, I honestly do not think he’ll repeat the same mistake with you. Having known him for so long, I’m sure he must have learned his lesson inshaAllah. I have a very strong feeling that he’ll take care of his next one in the best way possible and perhaps even become the best husband a woman can ask for.
Do your istikharah and go for it. If it’s khair for you, Allah will make it happen and if it’s not, He’ll block it for you. Trust Him.”

“Alhamdulillah, I’m so glad I talked to you. Jazakillah Khairan katheerah. InshaAllah I shall do as you advised.
I guess I’ll catch you later then InshaAllah. Once again, thank you so much. Assalamualaikum”

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“Mom, how could you do that?”

I turned my head to look towards the direction of the voice with a slight startle as I was lost in some other world for a while and hadn’t expected anyone’s presence in the room.

“How could I do what?”

“How could you talk so matter of factly about dad? And that too to someone who is considering being his next wife?! Mom, I KNOW you still love him, don’t try to deny that. Then how could you encourage someone else to marry him and give them your honest hopes of them being happy with him etc?? I don’t understand you, mom!”

“I won’t lie to you my darling. It hurt. It was tough. But for a moment when I looked at myself as only a sister in Islam to that sister who called, I had to put aside my hurt and my discomfort, to deliver what I felt obliged to deliver as a Muslim. Sincere and honest advice to a sister who sought it from me. I could neither turn her down nor taint the truth for my selfishness. It just doesn’t sit well with my self respect. So I had to do what I had to do.”

“And what about you mom? Won’t you look for another partner?”

I smiled and sighed.

“As for me, your dad is ingrained so deeply in every fibre of my being that I won’t be able to be loyal to anyone else in my life. I just no longer had the strength to take his negligence. Doesn’t mean I stopped loving him. Love is hardly a switch that you can play ‘on’ And ‘off’ with. I’m sure Allah will not hold me accountable for the matters of my heart which I have no control over.”

“Don’t you have any resentment towards him for having done this to you? He’s my dad, yes, and I love and respect him as my dad. But as a husband, not only did he not give you your rights as a wife, wasted your most beautiful and youthful days of your life, but also put you in a condition where you cannot even marry someone else. Don’t you feel  any resentment towards him? Nothing?”

“I left the marriage to save my heart from such fatal diseases. Alhamdulillah, I have none against him in my heart. I only wish good for him. Whatever happened has happened only by the permission of the Most Merciful. I trust His plans. And as for the latter, it’s not his fault at all. It’s just the way my heart has been designed by The Impeccable Designer. I neither complain about the way it is nor wish it were different. I simply let it be. Also, one who has Ar-Rafeeq by her side, can never be lonely as He is sufficient company for her.

Tell me now my darling, am I not too blessed to have any resentment towards anyone?”