...
The Guided Path
"WE GUIDED HIM TO THE RIGHT PATH, WHETHER HE WAS GRATEFUL OR NOT. [AL-INSAN, 76:3]“

In the above Ayah Allah, All Almighty talks about the guidance given to mankind. The tests and trials of this Earth are temporary, the reason for our being is to worship the creator as much as possible and compete to be the best at performing deeds so that we can achieve a lofty position with Allah in the eternal home, the home of peace, Al jannah.

My story was inspired by how we take Allah and his mercy for granted. We live in a world which unfortunately many of us are deeply attached to, that often we forget about the real world and what comes next. The moral of my story is to not take the guidance and mercy of Allah lightly for he shows it to only those who he wishes, but instead to be thankful to Allah for being amongst the guided ones. 

My story revolves around a 17 year old boy named Bilal. Like most of us, death was a rather terrifying concept to him and it was something he didn’t fully understand. Questions would often plague his mind, but like most things in life you have to experience it to find out. 

A life changing personal experience and an eye-opening conversation with a stranger would change his life forever. Through this Bilal rediscovers his bond with Allah and it is stronger than ever before. 


Sometimes all you need is a little guidance along the way. As Muslims we are surrounded by Guidance from Allah all the time. It’s the choice we have to make whether we are amongst the grateful and we follow it or whether we are ungrateful and we deny it.


The Guided Path

 
I slumped into the nearest seat at the library, drained from the three-hour football practice. I looked around and the library was unusually very empty. It was a weekly tradition of mine to come to the library after football practice on Friday. I liked having some time alone by myself with my thoughts. I don’t particularly like to read, I enjoy coming here because it’s very quiet.
I was slouching on the battered leather sofa, gazing out the window, when I heard the sound of sirens. It was an ambulance carrying someone who was fighting for their life. I wonder what might be going through their head right now. Are they scared? Or Are they at peace? What does it feel like knowing your about to die? Does it make you regret the life you lived or does it make you proud of your journey?
It was darker than usual, and I was extremely tired. I normally liked the walk home from the library, but today felt extremely different I could sense something bad was about to happen. I was so lost in thought that I didn’t notice the car coming my way. I heard someone screaming it caused me to turn around, the next few seconds happened so quickly I didn’t have time to process anything. I felt something wet on my face and clothes. A painful scream filled the air, people were rushing past me and I looked down I was sitting in a pool of blood but it wasn’t my own, a little girl was lying on the ground next to me, seriously injured there was blood everywhere. She was struggling to breathe, her body violently shaking, she couldn’t be any more than thirteen years of age. The sharp pain in my head returned, I looked down at my hands it was covered in blood. That’s the last thing I remember, everything turned black.
The next time I woke up everything was bright and painful, I looked around and I noticed I was in a hospital room strapped to several machines. There was no one else with me in the room, I tried to call for help to sit up, but couldn’t find my voice, I tried again but failed, I realized that I have lost my voice. I was feeling a thousand different emotions at the same time, my mind was spinning with questions: Who am I? How did I get here? Why am I strapped to all these machines? I felt extremely nauseous and confused. I was going to be sick. Suddenly I was unable to breathe, my body started shaking and my vision was starting to get blurry. I heard the door slide open and a group of people who I assumed were doctors came rushing in. They were screaming in panic, one of them kept tapping my face saying “Bilal can you hear me?’’ I realized that my name must be Bilal. And once again I was met with darkness.
I don’t know how long I have been here but I assume it’s been a few days. My voice has slowly started to return; I was able to tell the doctor how I feel, although it was extremely painful and took a lot of effort. Someone was knocking on my door, and it was the doctor from earlier, I gestured for him to enter. “How are you feeling now Bilal?”’ he questioned. I nodded my head indicating that I was doing alright. The doctor recommended for me to take a walk around the hospital and asked one of the staff to help me. It took me a few minutes but I was able to stand on my own without the support of anyone else. I had done this several times in the past couple of days, that I had become quite familiar with where I was going. There was this one patient, a tiny girl, who I gotten close to in my time here. She was thirteen years old, and for a reason unknown to me, there was an air of familiarity to her. I hadn’t seen her the entire day, her room was empty. The tiny figure that was usually asleep on the bed strapped to tubes and wires of all different shapes and sizes, the girl who was in so much pain, but always had an encouraging smile. But she wasn’t there anymore. I looked around once more expecting to see her, but I didn’t. A doctor was walking past and I stopped her, I wanted to ask her about the tiny girl, but I couldn’t. I just pointed to her room instead and tilted my head in question. She looked to where I was pointing and shook her head with tears in her eyes and walked away. That was enough for me to understand what happened to her. She was gone.
2 years later…
It has been two years and not a day goes by in which I don’t think about her. During my days of recovery at the hospital after her death I would remember our final conversation. It was her telling me about how she was scared of dying, “it’s not because I fear leaving this world or my family behind, it’s because I wish I could have done more to please my lord, before I meet him”, she said. And thinking about it today, years later, I realize now that it was the answer to my question. I wondered how people felt when they were about to die, but meeting that little girl opened my eyes to the truth, it also made me realize how I wanted to feel when I die, “that I have followed the guided path, and are amongst the thankful”.