You are not nameless - Prose of Ramadhan Part 58

255. No name? Let me name you.

Everything and everyone spoke

To the Prophet.

The Sun, the Moon, the rocks,

The animals, even his comb.

And the Prophet,

In his gentle heart remarked

To the comb,

“It is impolite to talk with anyone

Not knowing their name,

If you have none, o’ comb

I will name you.”

"Hullo... my Prophet." said the comb.

We often name our pets. Some men have names for their cars or motorcycles. Behind their backs, men also have names for their wives, an additional term of endearment or respect (or something else, hehehe). One of my favourite fictional character in literature is Rumpole of the Bailey. And He calls his wife, Hilda by the respectful title of 'She Who Must Be Obeyed'.

For all that the Prophet possesses, he had a name. Nothing was too small or insignificant that it does not deserve a name. Alive or non-sentient, it is all the same to him. Because unlike us, he can see and hear the very atoms and molecules whirling and singing praise of God's divine attributes. He is the Arch-witness of the creation and continuing recreation of the Universe. And whether it is his turban, comb or camel, nothing is nameless in his presence.

And you, sunshine? Christian, Hindu, Buddhist, Muslim or Jewish, in whatever creed that you endure in worship of the One God... you too are not nameless. Not to me. Not to Muhammad. 

Pax Taufiqa.