A Precious Prayer, One I Wished Would Never End | Zanubia Ahmad

Since March 2020 our lives have been affected greatly by the Covid-19 pandemic globally. Who could have imagined the sort of impact this pandemic would have on us? No one for sure. Only All-Knowing God Almighty knew what was to come ahead.

Being an Ahmadi, we all know that our social life revolves around our visits to the mosques, where we can see our beloved Hazur, Hazrat Mirza Masroor Ahmad (May Allah be his Helper). In fact, I can say that our hearts lie at the feet of our beloved Hazuraba and only a glimpse of our Khalifa lifts our spirits to the core of our souls.

Covid-19 struck and time stopped, our lives stopped socially because of the safety restrictions in place. We were unable to see our spiritual leader and visits to mosques stopped. Summer came and went without any changes and with disappointment we came to know that our Jalsa Salana could not be held, which was not a surprise, though very disappointing as the situation was not getting any better and for us the safety of our Beloved Hazuraba and Jama’at members was foremost.

Time passed and a new year started. My heart gave a flicker

of hope that the pandemic may end soon, but my mind was not so sure about the future as I could see the cases rising and a high death toll all over the world. So, I prayed and prayed to Allah, our only Refuge against all ills and evils, to end the trial and to lead us through this safely.

In Spring 2021, we started to hear the news that Jalsa Salana UK will be held though it would not be an international convention. Hope rose but there were still feelings of apprehension and we awaited further confirmation. Later, Jalsa was confirmed but with a very limited number of attendees and with all safety restrictions and also depending on how and when the Government would ease the restrictions. Every single Ahmadi was excited to hear the good news yet everyone was thinking the same, whether they would be able to attend or not.

Our hearts could not simply accept the fact that we may not

be present at the Gardens of Mehdi for Jalsa. My son, though he is 20 years old is a person of SEND and is always very zealous about Nazms and Taranas. He was so excited, that it pained me a lot to explain to him he may not be able to attend, as he had started preparing for Tarana. My husband and I started to mentally prepare him for the possibility of not attending Jalsa this year, explaining the importance of respecting Nizam-e-Jama’at and following the instructions of Khalifa-e-Waqt. We encouraged him to pray instead for the situation to improve.

Finally, we were informed that we were able to attend one day of the Jalsa, Alhamdolillah. Of course, being a Lajna member I wanted to attend on Saturday for the address of Hazur-e-Anwaraba at the Lajna Jalsa Gah. Hearing about the worsening weather and parking conditions, I decided that I did not want to drive to the Jalsa site, so I asked my husband if he could take me. But we were also thinking about my son being a participant in Tarana on day three of Jalsa, if we all attended on Saturday and my husband took my son on Sunday, then he would be attending two days of Jalsa. We contacted the organisers and told them about this to which we were told that as my son was a participant in the Tarana he would certainly be allowed to come on Sunday accompanied by his father. But even though we were given permission to go on Sunday, me and my husband, who is a Waqfe Zindagi and serves in a Markazi office had an uneasy feeling in our hearts that kept telling us that the actual permission for attending is only for one day. We kept asking ourselves if this would be disobedience?

Friday came, the first day of Jalsa and all 3 of us decided to attend at Baitul Futuh Mosque to experience the Jalsa feeling while sitting with other Ahmadis. After listening to the Friday Sermon, I decided that I would make some arrangements for myself or would brave the mud and drive to the Jalsa Gah myself and my husband and son should only go on Sunday, as we should obey the instructions of our beloved Imam to the letter. My husband called after Friday prayers and before I could tell him anything he said I have decided that we will be going on Sunday Insh’Allah and that he was able to arrange for me to go with someone else on Saturday.

Saturday morning, at Fajr

prayer, I heard the sound of rain coming from outside. I knew it was not a mere drizzle, as I could hear the water pouring down from the sky. As we all know that it had already rained a lot and more rain meant more disruptions and more logistical issues. But I did not let the

rain overcome me and told myself that this is a blessed day and blessed rain is being showered by God Almighty. I kept listening to these words of Hazuraba that no matter how difficult the weather is, those who are invited should attend and the weather should not be made as an excuse for not attending Jalsa. So, I started to get ready for the day. It was not an ordinary day, especially due to the bad weather, but I knew this day and this experience would be very special, one which I would remember my entire life.

Not being very fond of wellies, I had no other choice but to prepare myself to wear them. One may laugh but I have always been scared to wear wellies as they are not very convenient and taking them off is very difficult too. But no such issues, small or big, were going to come in my way that day and I stopped thinking of how I would take them off. With all my checklist done, AIMS card, vaccination card, Covid test results for that day and some other necessary items, I left home. Well not with all the checklist; when I got to my brother’s house, he mentioned the invitation card. Yes, I had forgotten the invitation card, these are unusual circumstances and who could have imagined we would be needing an invitation pass to attend our Jalsa? So, when I picked up my Aims card, it simply did not occur to me that I needed one more important pass and forgot to take it with me and had to go back to get it. And at that moment I prayed with a heavy heart thinking of all Ahmadis in the UK and other countries, that next year the situation gets better and we are all able to attend without any restrictions and gain the Blessings of God Almighty.

Our journey began to Country Market, where we would park

our car and take a shuttle bus to Hadeeqatul Mahdi. Rain kept pouring all the way and stopped only just 10 minutes before we got there. After all the process and checks, which ran very smoothly, we got on the bus. Entering the gate of Hadeeqatul Mahdi, I was filled with a sense of gratitude and a familiar sight made me think this is home and that how homesick I have been not being able to come here for two years. As the bus made its way to the corner of the kitchen a familiar smell of Aloo Gosht welcomed us bringing back all the memories.

Walking to the entrance I felt excitement and joy. At the entrance I was greeted by many familiar faces and when I passed through the security and entered the Ladies Jalsa Gah, it felt different and beautiful at the same time. The sun had come out of the clouds and was shining on the rainy puddles. A beautiful enchanting scene, yet I felt happy and sad at the same time and then I realized why. I did not see children talking, running around or shouting at each other with joy and excitement after seeing a familiar face. I did not see any mother with a heavily loaded pushchair and with more than one child walking towards the crèche or asking for the way. I did not see toddlers or younger girls wearing shalwar qameez and dupatas which

they had saved for this day, neither did I see younger baby boys wearing small topis. I also did not see any of the elderly ladies who, with whatever health issues they had, would want to come to Jalsa and who would stop you on your tracks and meet you with such love and prayers that would make your day. Usually, as I would normally always be running around for my duty, many familiar or unfamiliar elderly ladies would stop me and put their hands over my head and whispered a lovely prayer. I missed that too. But I knew this was for their own safety that they were not present at Jalsa this year. And so, I prayed for all children and for all elders that may the situation get better and may Allah enable them to attend next year and many years ahead, Ameen. May God bring back the ronaq and joy back to our Jalsas, Ameen.

I entered the main Ladies Jalsa Gah and though it was scaled

down a lot, a known nostalgia welcomed me with great gratitude in my heart, thinking how fortunate I was to be there attending this historic Jalsa. I listened to the Lajna session very attentively but my excitement for that big moment when Hazuraba will be gracing us with his presence was getting higher and higher. A long 18 months had passed since I had seen our beloved Khalifah with my own eyes and since I had offered Salat in Hazur’saba Imamat. My heart was pounding fast and I was praying deeply. It was such a beautiful blessed sight when Hazuraba entered the marquee. With pin-drop silence, all eyes watched our leader with a love greater than any other love in this world. Here I would like to mention a very noticeable thing. When Hazuraba is present at Ladies Jalsa Gah, generally all are quiet and listen attentively but due to sitting for a long time or warm weather, there does seem to be slight movement, either due

to changing their sitting positions or waving small fans to ease the heat which is all but natural. This year due to social distancing measures all were sitting on chairs. And sitting on these hard, plastic, foldable chairs for long periods of time is very uncomfortable. I am fortunate to have attended Jalsas in UK since 2003 and also have served by giving duties since then. I have always seen people sitting on the chairs changing positions constantly or stretching their legs in order to avoid pain and discomfort. During duties constantly either standing or walking around, I myself preferred sitting on the floor and this always eased my fatigue. But what I noticed was that no one moved or changed their positions. It was like all were mesmerized by the moment and did not want to create a disturbance at all. I spoke to a few Lajna members about this asking about their experience and they all agreed and said that even though their backs did hurt a lot when they stood up after the address, they did not move or change their position. It was though as if nothing mattered but to indulge in those spiritual moments.

When Hazuraba left for Namaz from the Lajna marquee, all eyes followed until they were unable to see him with teary eyes praying for our beloved Khalifa and praying that this pandemic ends soon and we see him again. All of us were thinking the same, when would that be? And I am sure all were filled with prayers for it to be soon. Insha’Allah.

I heard the sound of Adhan (call of prayers) and I travelled back to the days in the early pandemic when at a Friday Sermon, there were only two people in the mosque. One, our spiritual leader and the other, the Mu’azzan. That scene left a huge impact on me and I still remember the sorrow and fear inside me thinking when the dwellers of the mosque would be back for prayers.

And now after one and a half years I was standing in qayam,

waiting to offer prayers again behind Hazuraba. I heard Hazur’ saba voice saying ‘Allah u Akbar’ and overwhelming emotions flooded me and tears came out of my eyes with such flow that I was unable to control myself. It was as if a dam that was barricading the water flow had broken. I was crying and praying for the health and safety of Hazuraba. I also prayed for the Jama’at of the Promised Messiahas and I was praying for those who due to persecution or for not having means to travel and see the Khalifa of the time, attend Jalsa or offer prayers behind our dearest Imam. I was thinking when will I have this blessed opportunity again? And how greatly I have missed this.

Takbeer for Asr prayers started and a huge cloud of sorrow

engulfed me that these precious moments will end soon and I thought: these are very precious prayers, ones I wished would never end.