Where is home? | Diary entry

homeby Zakaria Mohammad – exclusive for

As I sit here, on a seat that has been manufactured to test the ability of time with its leathery feel and arms with sockets to connect any device possible, bolted to the floor in an upright position, with the seat right next to me completely empty praying that no one will sit there, so I can have an easy journey and comfortable one for that matter, trying to read my Du’a before taking off, in a way that will not be threatening to people, I wonder, where is home?

Advancing through our stages in life we have been educated that home is a place where our family is, where we eat dinner and study amongst family members, where we laugh, where we find happiness, where our local imam comes to teach us religion, where we sit till late at night with our cousins, where everyone gathers for an event, where we have Sunday BBQs, where we feel comfortable and at the end of it all, where you and I can call a place of return. But is it? Even the dictionary* suggest an incoherent definition of “home”, as it calls home a shelter, a dwelling or a region where something is native or most common. This is disconnected to what I feel. Home should be something safe, shouldn’t it?

At this moment I am thinking about going to a place where my 3 beautiful kids (that Allah SWT has bestowed on me) are waiting anxiously for their father to come knocking on the door to give them their hugs and kisses before their bedtime (will I make it?). And my beautiful wife, with that unbelievable smile is impatiently messaging me “how long till you land?”, however I am still confronted with this question “is it home?”. Or is home that final destination that us as muslims always have acknowledged to be a place of return hence what we say when someone passes away “To Allah we belong and to Him we will return”. Is that the real home, is that the real home that we are returning to or is it phantasm of our life in reality that bites us and shadows our mind from reflecting about the home that we will return to at the end.

I can truly say that I am going to a home but it is not the home.

Having a home is facile, I have a home with everything that has been taught about this life exist in it but the threat of destroying a home is child’s play where the complete opposite exist about the home. The home where no threat breathes and the word comfortable is as comfortable as the existence of it. How can I think about a home to return to when Allah has created the home that we will be in for the rest of eternity, where boredom is eliminated, where freedom is liberated, where bad is destroyed and good is protected. How can we say we have a home that is impervious when people are being kicked out of theirs or homes are being destroyed by military missiles and people are entering without ones consent, how can this be a home? How can I feel safe and guarded? In my current age I can find happiness with the smell of shoe polish as it reminds me of a fond memory watching my grandfather polish his shoes and me watching him in fascination with all the safety and guardianship surrounding me in those thoughts. If shoe polish does this to me can you just imagine what a Syrian kid been kicked out of his house, being orphaned at the age of 8 years, without food or water, living on the streets trying to salvage any food, does to me and it should do no different to you. Where is home for this kid? What is home for this kid? We can now apply the dictionary meaning of home for him because this kid is only looking for shelter. Acknowledging that this kid is Muslim I raise my hands and I ask Allah to give him the best in this world and the hereafter. I feel so close to my home but yet so far away. I feel far away cause I see how close others are to their home as they are going through strife that I cannot conceptualize. My perceptions been outweighed by reality in this matter and I have never witnessed or seen in actuality the level of destruction to homes currently in comparison to the past yet they, ones living through conflict and struggle, are so close and I feel so far.

So now I have to STOP! Stop wasting our time and find a path to our home and YOU find a path to YOURS.


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Categories: Advice, Articles, Family, Zakaria Mohammad

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