HAZRAT AISHA (R.A)
The life of Hazrat Aisha (Radhiyallahu-Anha) is proof that a woman can be far more learned than men and that she can be the teacher of scholars and experts. Her life is also proof that the same woman can be totally feminine and be a source of pleasure, joy and comfort to her husband.
In her youth, already known for her striking beauty and her formidable memory, she came under the loving care and attention of the Holy Prophet Muhammad (Sallallahu-Alayhi-Wasallam) himself. As his wife and close companion she acquired from him knowledge and insight such as no woman has acquired.
Hazrat Aisha (Radhiyallahu-Anha) was born as a Muslim. She says: "When I got to the age of understanding my parents were already Muslims." From this is it clear that not even a brink of Kufr was shadowed upon her.
Hazrat Aisha (Radhiyallahu-Anha) became the Holy Prophet's (Sallallahu-Alayhi-Wasallam) wife in Makkah when she was in the sixth year of her life but her wedding did not take place until the second year after the Hijrah when she was about nine or ten. About her wedding, she related that: "Shortly before she was to leave her parent's house, she slipped out into the courtyard to play with a passing friend. I was playing on a see-saw and my long streaming hair was dishevelled." She further says: "They came and took me from my play and made me ready."
Marriage to the Holy Prophet (Sallallahu-Alayhi-Wasallam) did not change her playful ways. Her young friends came to visit her regularly in her own apartment. Hazrat Aisha (Radhiyallahu-Anha) had her life to the Prophet (Sallallahu-Alayhi-Wasallam).
Once the Prophet (Sallallahu-Alayhi-Wasallam) went somewhere at night. When Hazrat Aisha's (Radhiyallahu-Anha) eyes opened she did not find the Prophet (Sallallahu-Alayhi-Wasallam) present, so she was very disturbed. She started searching for him in the darkness. Finally her hand touched the foot of the Prophet (Sallallahu-Alayhi-Wasallam), who was in prostration, and she was very relieved.
The bulk of her vast treasure of knowledge was obtained while she was quite young. There are 2210 traditions narrated from her.
Hazrat Aisha's (Radhiyallahu-Anha) students were approximately 200, out of which were: Hazrat Abu Hurairah, Hazrat Abu Musa Ashari, Hazrat Abdullah ibn Abbas and Hazrat Abdullah ibn Zubair (Radhiyallahu-Anhum).
When the Holy Prophet (Sallallahu-Alayhi-Wasallam) was on his death bed, he had his head on Hazrat Aisha's (Radhiyallahu-Anha) lap. At the time of the Holy Prophet Muhammad's (Sallallahu-Alayhi-Wasallam) death she was only eighteen years old.
May Almighty Allah make the women of today act upon the life of Hazrat Aisha (Radhiyallahu-Anha). Ameen.
A little boy is on his knees scooping and packing the sand with plastic shovels into a bright blue bucket. Then he upends the bucket on the surface and lifts it. And, to the delight of the little architect, a castle tower is created.
All afternoon he will work. Spooning out the moat. Packing the walls. Bottle tops will be sentries. Popsicle sticks will be bridges. A sandcastle will be built.
Big city. Busy streets. Rumbling traffic.
A man is in his office. At his desk he shuffles papers into stacks and delegates assignments. He cradles the phone on his shoulder and punches the keyboard with his fingers. Numbers are juggled and contracts are signed and much to the delight of the man, a profit is made.
All his life he will work. Formulating the plans. Forecasting the future. Annuities will be sentries. Capital gains will be bridges. An empire will be built.
Two builders of two castles. They have much in common. They shape granules into grandeurs. They see nothing and make something. They are diligent and determined. And for both the tide will rise and the end will come.
Yet that is where the similarities cease. For the boy sees the end while the man ignores it. Watch the boy as the dusk approaches.
As the waves near, the wise child jumps to his feet and begins to clap. There is no sorrow. No fear. No regret. He knew this would happen. He is not surprised. And when the great breaker crashes into his castle and his masterpiece is sucked into the sea, he smiles. He smiles, picks up his tools, takes his father's hand, and goes home.
The grownup, however, is not so wise. As the wave of years collapses on his castle he is terrified. He hovers over the sandy monument to protect it. He blocks the waves from the walls he has made. Salt-water soaked and shivering he snarls at the incoming tide.
"It's my castle," he defies.
The ocean need not respond. Both know to whom the sand belongs......
I don't know much about sandcastles. But children do. Watch them and learn. Go ahead and build, but build with a child's heart. When the sun sets and the tides take - appreciate and be thankful to the One who has created and given you everything. Salute the process of life and go home.