We were not like this. There were no such thick walls between us in ancient times. We were hand in hand, heart to heart. We were on the same side, shoulder to shoulder. We were not unaware of each other so much. Even foreigners were not alienated among us. Our house, our street, our city and even our hometown were one. We sipped our water from the same fountain and drank our soup from the same bowl. Our sorrows and sorrows were not alone most of the time. Surely a troublemaker was right next to us. We used to be happy by getting into trouble, we would be happy to worry. Maybe that's why we loved our troubles and rejoiced in our troubles.
Wealth, success and happiness would not come to us. Our brother's happiness was our greatest happiness. We counted our brother's success as our success. We used to regard his virtues as our own and we would be proud of him in gratitude. Maybe we didn't even have electricity, not just transportation vehicles, mobile phones and many other technology products. Our street lamp was not shining colorfully in our faces. But we had a morning call to prayer with a gas lamp or a small flashlight, and we were going to the mosque on the stony roads, when the sun of our hearts would be reflected in our eyes. Maybe the mats in the mosque hurt our feet, but we knew that this was the harbinger of the pearls that would come before us tomorrow.
Words had value back then. At least that's how we'd see it, or that's how we felt. And there were definitely speakers of words under a plane tree or in a mosque courtyard. Every word was like gold, every word was like pearl and coral. Everyone would fill their saddlebags with their sustenance and share. Here are our lecterns on such occasions; Our mihrab was the mihrab, our prayers and prostrations were in full prostration. Because it flowed into life like a river. life would be our actions, our thoughts. Life would give direction to our ship. In short, our life was not an artificial one, but a truly lived one. That's why we were always grateful. And we would not forget this prostration between four walls. Wherever we went, we would take it with us. Because in our hearts and minds, this whole world was a great mosque and we always thought of ourselves in prostration. If we had to introduce us with a single sentence, we could have said, "A sip of love fell on our share" at that time. Now, which sentence describes our state? Which sentence introduces us? “A pen friend, in his own way, left his lines unfinished.
Women's rights, career world capital,
His main rights are the heavens,
They said women's rights,
They vilified mothers,
They called career freedom,
Sometimes they adorned the woman,
Sometimes they made the woman to pave
They messed with your clothes,
They said that we will think of you more than you,
They made the woman work both at work and at home,
Then it is unfair to you, they said to divorce your wife,
You alone are more free, grandparents,
What is family, career is everything, they said,
What is family, don't let your mother, father, siblings interfere with you,
Don't share your troubles, you're a strong woman,
And you see, you've become a robot,
You killed your mercy,
You have come to the end of the road,
Go to work, pay the bills,
Death has come in your house,
Account will be asked
What is in your capital of servitude,
You say wow, vain,
You have no servitude duties,
You have no respect for your wife,
You have no maternity homework,
You have no human duty,
All capital is worldly,
They are of no use to you.
There are no eternal heavens for you,
The torments of hell are many,
There is no one who does not know the divine test of life,
Two options choose freely,
The merciful way is the way of the heavens,
The devil's way, the way of hells,
Greetings to you before death comes.
Let's try to complete these lines, my friend. Yes, although I am not able to form a sentence to explain our current situation, I would like to share a few sentences that go through my heart. We have now understood that "we have no share of advice or misfortune." How about love?
You know, they say unfortunate, that's exactly how we are now. As a person who feeds on dreams, even if it is only with a few syllables in the name of poetry, I cannot look at this subject in the dust. Albeit reluctantly, I say in a general way and with a deep sigh: “We have become a miserable bunch”. There is no need to deceive ourselves. Because I know that rosy dreams cannot cover the truth for a long time.
Come on, let's admit it right now. Let this confession be our repentance and say: Forgive us. We could not understand you and Habib, we could not try to understand. We called ourselves Muslims, but we could not surrender to you as Muslims. We recited the Message that was sent to us, but we could not read it. Because we couldn't touch our lives. We said we loved it, but we couldn't. Because we couldn't style the lifestyle you love.
We couldn't get it down to the path of the heart. And what else we couldn't do, what we couldn't do. You, Lord, already know it all. In short, my Lord, if this poor servant was asked what is the sentence that describes us now: We could not be granted a sip of love in this dilapidated place.
Forgive us and grant us a sip of love again.
