Fatimah is Fatimah: Her Final Struggle She Seeks Out the Soil of Her Father’s Grave
Now the only meaning she found in life was the kind soil of her father’s grave and the hopeful news he gave her when he said, ‘Fatima, you will be the first person to join me from among my family.’
But when? What an exciting prospect!
Her suffering spirit, like a wounded bird whose wings have been broken, was further wounded by three inescapable sights: the silent and sorrowful face of her husband, the saddened faces of her children and the sight of the silent, cold earth upon her father’s grave in the corner of Ayisha’s house.
Whenever the pain in her heart increased and she lost her breath from crying, she sensed that she was in need of the kindness and condolences of her father. She sought him out. She fell upon the silent earth of his grave. She stared at his grave and suddenly it was as if she had just heard of the death of her father for the first time. She cried out.
She pushed her fingers into the earth. She filled her empty hands with it. She tried to see him behind the curtain of her tears. She put the earth upon her face and smelt it. For a moment she was at peace. She had found condolence, but, suddenly, in a voice which broke with tears she said, “Anyone who smells the earth of Ahmad (Muhammad (PBUH)) has lost nothing if he never again smells any other musk. O’ father, what miseries have fallen upon me after you. If they had fallen upon a bright day, they would turn it into night.” Gradually she would grow silent. The earth of her father’s grave poured through her senseless fingers. She looked at it with painful amazement. Then she became motionless and silent.
She put all of her sorrows in the death of her father. Each day was like the first day of his death. Her impatience grew everyday, and her cries became more painful. The wives of the Helpers gathered round her and cried with her. The waves of sorrows pressed upon her heart and caused her eyes to bleed.
Her sorrow was more disturbing than anyone could conceive. No one could console her or ask her to be patient. Nights and days passed like this. The Companions were warmed by their power, riches and conquests. Ali (AS) was lost in sorrow and Fatimah (SA) in thoughts of death. She became impatient to receive the gift her father had promised her.
The Death of Fatimah (SA)
Each day that passed she became more impatient for death. The only way she could bear to remain alive was to seek refuge in her father, to draw near him when her faith and spirit over- flowed with complaints and pain.
How great was her need for such a refuge, for such a peace? But time passed slowly. Ninety-five days had passed since her father promised her death, and death would not come.
It came. On Monday, the 3rd of Jamadi-al-Thani, in the 11th year of the migration, in the year of the death of her father, it came. She kissed each one of her children. Now was the moment to bid farewell to Ali (AS). How difficult it was! And Ali (AS) had to remain alone in the world for thirty more years. She sent for Umm Rafia to come. Umm Rafia had arranged the Prophet’s funeral.
She said, “O’ servant of God. Pour water on me so that I may wash myself.” With patience and peace, she performed the ablution. Then she put on the clothes which she had not worn since the death of her father, the clothes she had put away. It was as if she had put aside the memory of her mourning and now was going to see a dear friend.
She said to Umm Rafia, “Put my bed in the middle of the room.” Softly and quietly she stepped into the bed. She faced the Kabah and she waited. A moment passed, moments. Suddenly cries were heard within the house. She closed her eyes to the world and opened her eyes upon her beloved awaiting her. A candle of fire and sorrow was extinguished in Ali’s house. And Ali remained alone, with his children.
She had asked Ali to bury her at night so that no one would recognize her grave or follow her corpse. Ali (AS) did as she had asked. But no one knew how. And they still do not know where. In her home? Or in Baqia’? It is not clear. And where in Baqia? It is not clear. That which is clear is the pain of Ali (AS), that night, next to the grave of Fatimah (SA).
Madinah was silent in the night. All Muslims were asleep. The night was only broken by the quiet whisperings of Ali (AS). Ali (AS) was very much alone both in the city and in his home without the Prophet and without Fatima. Like a mountain of pain, he sat upon the earth of the grave of Fatimah (SA). Hours passed. Night, quiet and silent, listened to the pain of his whispering. Baqia was peaceful, fortunate. Madinah was without loyalty. All remained in silence. The awakened graves and sleeping city listened!
The wind of the night took the words flowing with difficulty from the spirit of Ali (AS) (as he sat beside Fatima’s (SA) grave) towards the house of the Prophet (PBUH): “To you from me and from your daughter, who followed you in such haste, greetings O’ Prophet of God.’ “My patience and my ability have weakened from the fate of your dearest, O’ Prophet of God. But how can I seek patience with such terrible misfortune and loss?
“I placed you in the grave, but you still exist in my heart. We are all from God and unto God we shall return. But my sorrow is eternal, and my nights sleepless until God takes me to the home in which you are now.
“Right now your daughter will tell you how your tribe joined each other against her and took away her rights. Insist that she tell you everything that happened. All these things happened even though not much time has passed since your death, and people have not forgotten you .
“Greetings to both of you, greetings from a man who has neither anger nor sorrow.”
He remained silent for a moment. He suddenly sensed the exhaustion of a whole lifetime. It was as if with every word pulled from the depths of his being, he gave up a part of his existence.
He was alone. He did not know what to do. Stay? Return home? How could he leave Fatima here alone? How could he return alone to his home? The city looked like a devil in the darkness of the night. Schemes, treacheries and shamelessness awaited him.
How could he stay? His children, the people, truth, responsibilities and a heavy mission awaited him. His pain was so heavy that it destroyed his strong spirit. He could not decide Hesitation gripped his soul. Go? Stay? He sensed that he was unable to do either. He did not know what he would do. He explained to Fatima: “If I leave you it is not because I do not want to stay near you. If I stay here [die] have I not renounced the fate that God promises those who bear patiently?”
Then he arose, stood and faced the Prophet’s (PBUH) house, with a passion which overflowed into words. He wanted to say that he, Ali (AS), was returning that which had been entrusted to him. ‘Listen to what she says. Ask her to tell you everything precisely. Have her recount all the things that she saw after you, one by one!’
Epilogue
Fatima lived like this and died like this. After her death, she began a new life in history. Fatimah (SA) appeared as a halo around the faces of all of the oppressed who later became the multitudes of Islam. All of the sufferers, all of those whose rights had been destroyed, all who had been deceived, all took the name of Fatima as their emblem.
The memory of Fatimah (SA) grew with the love and wonderful faith of the men and women, who throughout the history of Islam, fought for freedom and justice. Throughout the centuries they were punished under the merciless and bloody lash of the caliphates. Their cries and anger grew and overflowed from their wounded hearts.
This is why in the history of all Muslim nations and among the deprived masses of the Islamic community, Fatimah (SA) has been the source of inspiration for those who desire their rights, for those who seek justice, for those who resist oppression, cruelty, crime and discrimination.
It is most difficult to speak about the personality of Fatimah (SA). Fatimah (SA) was the ideal that Islam wanted a woman to be. The form of her face was fashioned by the Prophet (PBUH) himself. He melted her and made her pure in the fires of difficulties, poverty, revolution, deep understanding and the wonder of humanity. She was a symbol for all the various dimensions of womanhood. She was the perfect model of a daughter when dealing with her father. She was the perfect model of a wife when dealing with her husband. She was the perfect model of a mother when raising her children. She was the perfect model of a responsible, fighting woman when confronting her time and the fate of her society.
She herself was a guide that is, an outstanding example of someone to follow, an ideal type of woman, one whose life bore witness for any woman who wishes to ‘become herself’ through her own choice.
She answered the question of how to be a woman with her wonderful childhood and adulthood, her constant struggle and resistance on two fronts (inside and out) in the home of her father, in the home of her husband, in her society, in her thoughts and behavior and in her life as a whole. I do not know what to say. I have said a great deal. Still much remains unsaid.
In the symphony of all the amazing aspects of the great spirit of Fatima, that which causes the most wonder in me, is this: that Fatima was the traveling companion, was the one who stepped in the same steps of her father was the one who flew together with the great spirit of Ali (AS) through the heights of humanity towards perfection and completion was the one who passed through all the stages of the ascent of the spirit and the psyche.
She was not just a wife to Ali (AS). Ali (AS) looked upon her as a friend, a friend who was familiar with his pains and his great aspirations. She was his endless refuge, the one who listened to his secrets. She was the only companion of his loneliness. This is why Ali (AS) looked at her with a special look and also at her children.
After Fatimah (SA), Ali (AS) took other wives and he had children from them. But from the beginning, he separated the children who were from Fatima from his other children. The latter are called ‘Bani Ali’, [that is, sons of Ali] and the former, ‘Bani Fatima’ [the children of Fatimah (SA)].
Isn’t it strange! The children of Ali derived their names from Fatimah (SA). And we saw that the Prophet (PBUH) also saw her with different eyes. Among all of his daughters, he would only discipline Fatimah (SA). He relied only upon her. From an early age, she accepted the great invitation.
I do not know what to say about her or how to say it? I wanted to imitate the French writer who was speaking one day in a conference about the Virgin Mary. He said, “For 1700 years all of the speakers have spoken of Mary. For 1700 years, all philosophers and thinkers of various nations of the East and West have spoken of the value of Mary (SA). For 1700 years, the poets of the world have spent all of their creative efforts and power in their praise of Mary (SA). For 1700 years, all of the painters and artists have created wonderful works of art showing the face and form of Mary (SA). But the totality of all that has been said and the efforts of all the artists and thinkers throughout these many centuries have not been able to better describe the greatness of Mary (SA) (SA) than the simple words, ‘Mary was the mother of Jesus Christ (AS).”‘
And I wanted to begin in this manner with Fatimah (SA). I got stuck.
I wished to say, ‘ Fatimah (SA) was the daughter of the great Khadija,’ but I sensed this would not fully describe Fatimah (SA).
I wished to say, ‘FatimaH (SA) was the daughter of Muhammad (PBUH),’ but I sensed this would not fully describe Fatimah (SA).
I wished to say, ‘Fatimah (SA) was the wife of Ali (AS),’ but I sensed this would not fully describe Fatimah (SA).
I wished to say, ‘Fatima was the mother of Hassan (AS) and Hussain (AS),’ but I sensed this would not fully describe Fatimah (SA).
I wished to say, ‘Fatimah (SA) is the mother of Zaynab (SA),’ but I still sensed this would not fully describe Fatimah (SA).
No, these are all true, and none of them is Fatimah (SA)
Fatimah (SA) is Fatimah (SA)
Source: shafaqna