REFLECTIONS ON MY SHAYKH DR. ISMAIL MEMON

by Asim Ahmad

It is hard to put into words the latent emotions that trigger at the thought of my Hazrat Dr. Ismail Memon after being blessed with his auspicious company for over 20 years. As I mentioned in my editorial from the previous issue, the trajectory of my life would have gone in a very differ- ent (and potentially deviant) direction had Allah not brought Hazrat into my life. On this spiritual journey, I learned so much of the need for a shaykh, but I also realized that true insight into the Deen relies on good company par excellence more than on any curriculum/course that teaches about the Deen. Actually, this realization arose from a fundamental misunderstanding, which I think others fall into also. So, I’ll lay it out briefly. We often confuse Deen with knowledge of Deen despite them being two distinct entities. Think of one as being the road while the other the destination. No one confuses a road with the destination or vice versa, otherwise you and I may be spending more time on the road than we care to. We acquire knowledge of the Deen assuming that we have acquired the Deen, when in reality, imbuing the Deen requires two major components: good company and dhikr. I too thought that once I had graduated from a religious institution that I now had a firm grip on the Deen. It was only after I met Hazrat that the realization came that I still needed to start the path of acquiring the Deen.

Although these topics are of crucial importance, especially in our times, they are not the focus of this article. Therefore, I choose not to elaborate any further on the need for a shaykh or how this unbreaking tradition started in the prophetic era and will continue until the end of times.

In this article, I only want to put for the benefit of our readers some recollections of my time with Hazrat and the lessons I learned from the precious moments that I was granted with him. Though, I must say that I could not have shared these memories had it not been for the simple fact that Hazrat had dedicated 24/7 of his life to us. Anytime I called or came to his office, private room or his house, the door was open and he invited me in with a smile.

I believe this is because accessibility is key in the path of spiritual rectification. For the Sahaba l to gain the ranks they did, the Prophet a had to be available for them around the clock. Had the Prophet a continued his trade ventures to Sham as he did before prophethood or his window for the Sahaba l to sit in his company opened for only a few hours a day, there would be no Sahaba l to pass on the Deen to us, quite frankly. They were like newborns who needed constant fostering and care, which depended on a range of things including circumstances, personalities, and collective or individual attention required to help them progress on their path to Allah.

Remember, this was a mission, not a 9-5 job. The Prophet a had dedicated his life to the spiritual excellence of the Sahaba l . It was a part of his prophetic duty to keep abreast of their spiritual progress and provide his uplifting company as often as he could.

In the lengthy hadith by Ka‘b bin Malik g about his staying back from the expedition of Tabuk, he mentions how the Proph - et a asked about Ka‘b’s whereabouts after reaching Tabuk, though over 20,000 thousand Sahaba l took part in this expedition. How did the Prophet a notice Ka‘b’s g absence in such a huge number unless he was keeping a close eye on every sahabi?

In any case, without accessibility and availability, there is no mentoring or imbuing the qualities of the pious.

I never felt even once in my 20+ years with Hazrat that he was too occupied to give me his time. I rarely wrote him letters and preferred either to call or meet him in person, but either way, the response time was quick. When I called, whether he was in the bath - room or having his dinner, I would receive a call a few minutes later.

The fact that he even returned my call every time, though I was the one in need always put me to shame and only increased my love for him. Who gives about anyone these days? Even parents don’t give their children quality time anymore. His sincere concern for our spiritual well-being was driven by the need to uphold the prophetic mission of, “ Send upon them a prophet from among them…who purifies them .”

He took it upon himself to uphold the prophet - ic mission, fostering the next generation to carry the name of Allah in their hearts and embody the Qur’an and Sunna in their lives.

He routinely put aside his own needs and work to address our personal issues and attend to us— on our schedule; and we find this in the hadith too. Sometimes, people came upon the Prophet a at unexpected times, but the Prophet a heard them out no matter what time they came or who they were. Once, someone came as the Prophet a was raising his hands to lead ‘Isha.

The Prophet a stopped his prayers and attended to the needs of the newcomer until late in the night while the Sahaba l lay waiting. According to the hadith, it became so late that many Sahaba l dozed off. 1

When I walked into his room just to sit in his company, no matter what Hazrat was doing his first question was, “Is there anything you want to say?” If I had something in mind I would say it, but more often I just wanted to sit with him and quickly made up some excuse. He would immediately put his work away or say, ‘give me a minute.’ Then, he quietly put away whatever he was doing and gave me his undivided attention. Never once do I recall him telling me to say what I wanted to say while he continued with his work. Everything had to be put away so that he could give me undivided attention. I remember feeling guilty on such occasions for disturbing his work, but it only proved to me that he lived by the Sunna. The Prophet a gave all his attention to whomever came to him at any time.

For me to be able to share these memories is a posthumous blessing of my shaykh who gave me the time to make these memo - ries of him.

Made in America

I was a made-in-America product. The I-don’tcare attitude and the ‘my, myself, and I’ complex work just fine in the cutthroat world of capitalism, but it comes across as terribly uncultured in the Islamic ethos where reverence for elders and respect for parents and serving and attending to your grandparents are the loftiest virtues. The chapters of the hadith collections that extoll these virtues are huge and are titled al-birr wa al-sila , all of which denote its importance in Islamic culture.

In Tasawwuf, reverence is of utmost importance since the connection between the shaykh and the mureed is a fragile one. It is the pipeline that passes the fuel of deen (humility, love for Allah, love for the Prophet a , modesty, conviction, faith and piety, and taqwa etc.) from the heart of the shaykh to the mureed. But it is also a volatile connection because the flame of irreverence and criticism can easily blow up this connection and destroy the faith of the mureed. Had the Sahaba l ever criticized the Prophet a , they would have instantly been turned out of the Faith.

Once, a man came to the Prophet a while the

Prophet a was distributing spoils of war. He had sunken cheeks, an acerbic appearance and a high forehead. He objected, “Be just, for you are not just!” In response, the Prophet a said, “Woe to you, if I am not trustworthy then who is!” 2 The Prophet a went on to prophesy that a deviant group will rise from this man’s [spiritual] descendants. They later became the Kharijites.

I was also extremely critical due to my irreverence and arrogance and can only imagine how Hazrat persevered with me. After all, he made a huge jump. Here he was in the company of the greatest and most pious Auliya of Allah of the time. He took bay‘a with the illustrious Maulana Abdul Qadir Raipuri and, after his death, with Shaykh al-hadith Muhammad Zakariyya and remained in his company until his death in 1982; While living in Madina, he hosted a great many masha’ikh and scholars of the time, received their du‘a and blessings, and sat in their illumined company. Now he was with me and had taken upon himself the task of shaping me up.

Once before Zuhr, I came to the front row to pray next to Hazrat. This is the summer of 1996. It was a very hot day and I had my sleeves pulled up high. My father sat down next to me. He casually leaned over and whispered for me to lower my sleeves and then explained that it was disrespectful to bare my forearms in the presence of Hazrat. I never said anything at the time, but I clearly recall saying to myself something along the lines of, “So what! What difference does it make?”

Despite this type of attitude which I am sure manifested on different occasions, Hazrat never even once expressed any indignation or complained about it. He did diagnose my problem of raizani, i.e., being obsessed with my opinion, but that was to help me improve myself and change my ways. He remained ever affectionate and kind no matter what I threw at him, and I believe this is what really changed me the most. I cringe thinking about all the embarrassing times I acted like I knew what I was doing or talking about. But he never let it on that I was embarrassing myself. His kindness drowned out my ignorance.

Had he scolded me at the time, I would have turned around and never returned, and he knew it.

Allah said to the Prophet a , “Had you been rough and hard-hearted, they would have dispersed from around you” (3:159). Instead, the Prophet a won the hearts with kindness, love and forbearance. Our Hazrat revived the same Sunna. His kindness, love and forbearance won me over.

One example: This is around 1999-2000. I had moved to Buffalo the year before and was staying in a Darul Uloom house. At the time, the close-knit Muslim neighborbood around Masjid Zakariyya was like an enclave surrounded by blocks of crime-infested neighborhoods. One of the houses in this enclave was on sale. The location was excellent and the price was a steal. Many people, including those who were closely associated with Hazrat, had their eyes on it. Hazrat called me into his room one day and said he wanted that house for my father and I, though I knew others were just waiting to grab it. Why he decided to give me the house when I never showed any interest in it nor was I even close to Hazrat at the time still astounds me.

I live in that same house today, alhumdulillah.

Changing the East Side

When I first came to the East Side, it was rundown and dangerous. Drugs and crime were rampant and police sirens were as daily as the five time salat. But it has changed radically since then, which I find hard to believe though it all transpired before my eyes. I don’t have the numbers, but the Muslim demographic from what I observe seeing more and more Muslim shops, grocery stores, restaurants, neighborhoods, Muslim workers behind store counters, at the post office, banks, retail stores, and at the bus stops, has only skyrocketed. Even now, the Muslim population continues to grow vigorously. Now, Muslim homes stretch through the east to the west side and more and more

Muslims are populating the older neighborhoods between Masjid Zakariyya to Parker Masjid and beyond. Masjids too have multiplied exponentially.

This transformation also brought unanticipated changes like gentrification. Investors quickly jumped to convert dilapidated warehouses into gorgeous lofts and to develop upscale apartment complexes along the main arteries. But every day I see all these massive changes, I am constantly reminded of the most important lesson—it took only one man to change the East Side.

As a result of all these improvements, the crime and drug issue has cleared up significantly, and the East Side has flourished.

My Hazrat never gave a single talk or speech in his life. He came only to revive the dhikr of Allah and establish a madrasa in the name of Allah. It told me that speeches don’t change much. It is sacrifice, sincerity and devotion to the Deen that transforms not only hearts and communities, but whole cities.

Example of his affection

Another example of his affections: when I first joined the madrasa in 1998, I fell sick due to a genetic eye problem and could not attend classes. Hazrat came to visit me and sat at the edge of the bed where I lay. I was so embarrassed that he noticed my discomfort, quickly made the Sunna du‘a and left.

Attending to Hazrat

Even to the very end, I never was one to attend to Hazrat’s needs like many others. They opened the doors, helped him put on his coat, and were on call for him at all times of the day. I was admittedly clumsy at any type of khidma and immediaetely felt that I wasn’t cut out for it. But I constantly questioned myself as I observed others going out of their way for him. Was I falling short in my requirements of love for my shaykh?

I decided to raise this matter up with Hazrat. Over the years, this discussion came up at least three times and his response was invariably the same almost every single time. Here is what I asked: Hazrat, I don’t express the same love and do your khidma the way many others do. If I am falling short in this matter, please correct me and tell me what I need to do to change my attitude. His response: don’t worry and continue doing what you are doing. I know who loves me and who doesn’t.

I never forgot this answer and it helped clarify many issues for me. He wasn’t concerned with who served him or not, but rather who was devoted to the work of deen and striving to get closer to Allah. Even the Sahaba l all worked in different capacities. Some Sahaba l attended to the Prophet’s a personal needs more than others like Ibn Mas‘ud, Ibn ‘Abbas, Abu Hurayra, and Anas l ; and then there were those who only served his divine mission. It is hard to say who was better since different personalities produce different propensities. Every sahabi went where their propensity took them. I believe this same factor also determined the difference between those who served Hazrat’s mission from those who attended to his personal needs.

In reality, they all worked for the same goal–to achieve the pleasure of Allah. c

Abdullah bin ‘ Amr bin al‘ As g said, “When the belly of Makkah will be cleft open and through it will be dug out river-like passages (i.e. tunnels) and the buildings of the Holy City of Makka will rise higher than its mountains, when you observe these signs, then understand that the time of trial is near at hand.”