The Confession of Azrail, Angel of Death - Veneration of Muhammad

KHADIJAH. The prose below is recorded today. It is a love prose. I was walking in a garden when someone showed me a star. Later he brought a book to me. In the book was the story of Khadijah, the first wife and in my humble estimation, the most beloved wife of Muhammad Prophet of God. The wife whom the Prophet loved and in whose lifetime the Prophet married no other. The wife whose voice was similar to her sister's, and such was the Prophet's love, his countenance changed and was in awe when he heard the late Khadijah in the voice of her sister outside the door, many years after the passing of his beloved Khadijah.

AZRAI'IL ANGEL OF DEATH. But it is also a love story about Azra'il, the Angel of Death. When he finally met his own death at the deathbed of a mortal, Muhammad the Beloved of God, Muhammad the Mercy of All Creation.

THE CHAPTER OF KHADIJAH AND THE ANGEL OF DEATH

The Garden

I was a garden,

Then a gardener came and planted

The most beautiful and delicate seed

I have ever embraced in my earth,

Now, I am a garden of Muhammad.

The Star

I was a star,

Then an astronomer was guided to

Turn his telescope my way,

And for that brief moment in eternity,

I twinkled bright enough, thousands upon thousands

Of years ago, for him to see me.

And He named me the Star of Muhammad.

The Book

I was a book unwritten,

Then a hand took a pen

And the writer began to write.

And the working title he gave to me

Was the Book of Muhammad.

Khadijah

I was a beautiful woman of Mecca,

A chaste widow of a noble husband,

A merchant woman prosperous and famous

For baking the best bread in Mecca.

I saw him one day, and I lost myself to him

And he lost himself to me.

We were wed in a simple ceremony blessed by God,

Attended to by Angels and the line of Prophets -

As I became and shall always be

The Bride of Muhammad.

Azrai'il, Angel of Death

I am an Arch Angel feared by all,

I am Death and death is in my touch,

I end the good and bad dreams of all mankind.

Then one day I was ordered to take

The life of a man and I came upon him

Lying in his deathbed.

In his last breath he uttered the words three times,

“My people… my people… my people…”

And some have called me the Death of Muhammad.

But if you truly wish to know,

I have never come across a soul like Muhammad,

And on that fateful day, I, Azra’il,

Became not the Death of Muhammad.

Muhammad was the Death of me.

For I did not take his mortal life

Unaffected or unchanged.

And since Angels never change,

The Azrai’il of old must have perished

At the same moment when Muhammad passed away.

I died in his sweet countenance,

I died in his merciful gaze,

Which he bestowed even unto me,

The Angel of Death

The ender of lives,

The ravager of humanity,

The killer of hopes.

I died in his delicate words when he

Saw my discomfort and he said,

“O’ Azra’il. You are doing what

You are ordered by God to do.

As I do what I am ordered

By God to do.”

You might not be a Muslim, my friend. But I am writing in the language of love and it is the universal language, yes?

May God bless your life with Love Undiminished and Passion Higher that the Highest Mountain of Creation.

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

Pigeons and Ice Creams in Mecca - Umrah Pilgrimage Part 23



Some chaps in Mecca are deeply concerned about my health, and they would grunt loudly, "Haram! Haram!" (Forbidden! Forbidden!) as I enjoyed my cigarettes in the Holy City. In my high spiritual state of my pilgrimage, I would reply (in my head), "O' my brother... thank you for your concerns, but please, just shove it."



In my earlier posting, I think I mentioned that pigeons are always about in holy places. So this little fella must be the cousin of the birds I made acquaintance with in Jerusalem and Medina. It is cooing outside the window sill of our cramped quarters. He must be thinking, "Why is this pilgrim in his room while the faithful are making their steadfast way to the Masjidil Haram?" I hate pigeons, they are such nosy-parkers.



Wonderful, mad, chaotic Mecca. Even in the throng of humanity and God-awful diesel fumes of the big buses and SUVs that clog the streets, you are often moved to sit. To find a spot and simply contemplate and reflect.



What an ornate door, I thought. This is the old part of Mecca with tiny alley ways and small little townhouses jostling for room with mini-hotels, kebab shops, laundrettes, watch stores and jewellery shops. Looming over the old city is the new development sitting on the hill directly adjacent to the Masjidil Haram. Starbucks within 100 meters!

Continuation of Umrah Journal in Mecca…
- Umrah feeling – tried to recall what I learnt about prophet’s life pre-hijra (before his migration to Medina) – then it dawn (on me) the love for this mad chaotic city and its people - It is a mess and I am not surprised that the Jews and Christians were so shocked to even consider that a prophet can come from such people – but they have BIG HEARTS in their cunning and hard-working ways…

- spent time Monday morning – woke up early at 6 am after just 3 hours sleep – Just wanted to have a fag outside but wandered (the city) and bumped into Syful (my loyal companion in Medina) – we walked around and shopped for a couple of hours – and we talked about Nabi + Mecca + Hajja Amina Adil + her Beautiful book about the Prophet …

- Tuesday 10am – Visited Kaaba early morning / midnight. Said sorry for being cocky (see Posting entitled "Standing in front of the Holy Kaaba and thinking 'Hmm. Not so big after all.' - Umrah Pilgrimage Part 22" Click Here) the morning before – (Imagined) it answered “That’s okay, Taufiq. I knew you were grumpy and boy, were you tired that night! And after all, I never asked you to love me…”

The Kaaba is right, of course. It never asked to be adored. And Mecca also never asked to be adored. But the longer I stayed, the more I fell in love with the place. For wherever I am in the city, I cannot contain my emotion thinking, "He was born here. He lived, breathed, worked and married here to Khadijah the First. And it was here that one auspicious day he returned to his beloved wife and confessed to her that while doing seclusion, Gabriel the Arch Angel came unto him with a message from God."

Have a wonderful day, sunshine. God bless you.

Pax Taufiqa