I complain to the Creator and not the creation…

Following in Ya’qub (AS)’s footsteps, when he said: “I only complain of my distraction and anguish to Allah, and I know from Allah that which ye know not.” (Surah Yusuf, 12:86)

There are some things in life that just don’t need explaining. But other times, you feel left alone in the dark without slightest hint of hope. There is an ‘un’written code of ethics, of morals, that must come into play when a tragedy occurs. There is a norm that is followed, not only from custom and tradition, but from common sense and sensibility.

That code has been grossly violated.

For those that actually know me and have seen past my guise of alleged anonymity, you might know that something happened to me a few weeks ago that would normally evoke the natural, human, sympathetic reaction by others – family, friends, and the like.

Or so I thought.

How silly of me to assume humanity in others. I begin to question the origins of the word “human” – for there are some who rear their ugly and inhumane visages in the face of calamity. Those that pretend camaraderie in the light but practice hypocrisy in the dark. Those that claim to be family through so-called blood ties but sever them through their malicious actions.

These words are not unbefittingly harsh or maligningly satiric in the slightest. They are a mere glimpse of the raw and unhealed wound that lies beneath the shoddy bandage, temporarily and hastily placed in the midst of all the emotion and hurt.

This could be a general message to anyone or a specific one to somebody. Either way, it doesn’t matter. As expected, the ticking of the clock has ensured the damage to be complete, as if the glass bottle were welded shut forevermore, the message contained inside of it never to be held or read.

What do the lowly complaints of this amatullah matter in the grand scheme of life? I walk but mere footprints on the sands of time…waiting only to be erased from this ephemeral existence…