The Green Cadillac

I managed a weak smile to the stewardess as I boarded the plane to Mumbai on that Saturday, 17th of Rabi Ul Awwal. The mind was still racing with emotion from the events of the past 36 hours. The ears were still ringing with the trembling voice on the phone at 1:00 AM in the morning, as she repeated between sobs, 'Moula ye hamesha waaste aaram farmayo chhe!'. The eyes were still flashing images of my Moula's Janaza being led through the streets of Mumbai. And the heart was still unwilling to come to terms with the sinking reality that the one person to whom I owed my very existence, was no more. The unthinkable had happened.

As I hauled away my luggage in the overhead bin, I remembered the last time we were on this very same flight to Mumbai two and a half months earlier. There was excitement at the prospect of being able to get the sharaf of His deedar every day for the next 10 days and the anxious anticipation of the opportunity to do qadambosi. As I had kissed His hands and feet on that Saturday, the 13th of Moharram, and looked up at His gaze, the heart had cried in joy -  'Moula aapye mane bulawi lidha!'.

I waived off the meal and looked out of the window onto the highway below. The most distinct memory of childhood in Mumbai came to mind. Moula would come back home from safar to a grand reception at the airport. We would take position at the usual vantage point on the highway that led out of the airport, eagerly waiting for His entourage. And then we would see it, in the distance - two police cars in the front, followed by sets of motorcycles with their riders dressed in sparkling white uniforms; and then that magnificent Green Cadillac. 'Moula ni gaari dekhai chhe!'. As the shining car would roll ever so slowly by us, He would raise his hand in salaami and look upon us with a smile that can never ever be forgotten.

I was ushered into Raudat Tahera along with throngs of other Mumineen. As I approached His Qabr Mubarak, that paradise which He had chosen to be His final resting place, the heart sank in extreme grief. Would I never see that salaami again? Wasn't there any way to just bring back those minutes and hours spent eagerly waiting for the Green Cadillac?

I waited in line the next day, heart filled with grief, but also with the hope of getting the opportunity to do taziyat araz to Aaliqadr Moula, and with the belief that even a few seconds in His presence would provide the solace that I was desperately craving for. We waited patiently inside Saifee Masjid, eyes fixed to the TV screen that provided a view of the road that led up to the Masjid entrance. Moula was about the arrive at any moment.

And then I saw it. Two police cars in the front, followed by sets of motorcycles with their riders dressed in sparkling white uniforms; and then - that magnificent Green Cadillac! Mufaddal Saifuddin Moula had arrived. The brain registered. It was that unmistakeable salaami, and that very same shafaqat ni nazar. It was Him. It was Burhanuddin Moula who had arrived.

In Syedna Mufaddal Saifuddin TUS, He has left us with another Moula, without a doubt, equal in all aspects to Himself.

Abde Syedna TUS
Taher Saify
New Jersey 

Sketches of Trip to Dubai - March 2006

We arrived at an invigorating land that bubbled with youth and modernity. Our dearest ones received us with faces brimming with joy and hospitality.

We entered a house that was beautiful, well decorated and nurtured with love by a united and happy family. Each member welcomed us with joy abandon, with affection and with integrity. Every convenience was provided to us in a dignified manner, with programs very well planned by the lady of the house, and supported by each member of the family. There were no hassles, no confusions; every piece was in order and in its proper place.

Next day a lovely caravan arrived. Elderly, affectionate sisters and their spouses, each caring for the other. There were a series of hugs, a scenario worth to be seen, worth to be memorized, a gala gathering, unmatched and rare.

Next day we visited a unique village, one in which the entire world vied with each other to compete in one compact space, every product was available, each beauty shone, each pavilion was flush with a variety of goods and articles. It was a macro world exhibited in a micro village. Our hosts were in command and money flowed like a stream. No murmur, hospitality was at its zenith, love reigned.

Every day started with a nourishing breakfast. There were a number of cars at our disposal; glamorous malls were in the itinerary. Best of hotels were selected for food, our hosts led and we followed. Our hosts served and we enjoyed.

A beautiful day brought the union of a son with his parents. He had come all the way from a magic land, eager to welcome his parents to his house. He strove to meet his dearest elders and cousins, to experience the joy of a unique gathering of his maternal family.

The young generation now stepped in. Each one was well behaved, well mannered and well settled. They were eager to show their respect and gratitude towards their elders. The elders prayed in unison for their bright future and prosperity, to which they proudly replied, 'we follow the path of affinity and comradeship cultivated by our elders’. Turn by turn they hosted us in star ranked hotels and served delicious food with loving care. May their futures be bright by the grace of Allah and blessing of Aqa Moula (TUS).

What a sight was The Burj – AL-Arab. A wonder of the new world, an architectural beauty shining with human genius and tenacity. Entry to this palace was prohibited by its high cost and dress code, reflecting a feudal tendency. Still the rich could climb to the top and others applauded them from the bottom.

One evening we undertook a sojourn to the Marina City, an epitome of imagination. It appeared as though a corner of heaven had been planted on earth. Dubai's beauty was explored at night.

The day of departure arrived, a sister sobbed and her caring and big hearted brother consoled her. All the youngsters were satisfied that they had performed their tasks meticulously. A memorable farewell was given to us.

We spent the last night at a loving and caring sister's exhilarating home, on the banks of the sea. What a beaming sight, the sea was an arm’s length away. Parents and three sons lived under one roof. This was a happy, coordinated family under the patronage of efficient father and a resourceful mother

We encircled the towering buildings of Dubai in a boat, every building competing for architectural vanity. This was followed by dinner at an Iranian restaurant, a grand farewell by nephews to their dear Aunt.

The trip ended strengthening and imprinting family bonds. It narrowed generation gaps, and inspired youngsters and elders alike to plan for many more of such exciting gatherings. Every participant was happy and was left with ever lasting sweet memories.

May Allah save our family from evil eyes - Amin.