This is the month of Rabi’ al-Awwal, the month in which that blessed figure came into existence, whom the Lord of the universe Himself declared as “Mercy for all the worlds” (Rahmatul-lil- Aalameen). The one whose garment and thigh bore the name that Jesus, son of Mary, saw inscribed: “Lord of lords and King of kings.” He is the leader of the world until the Day of Judgment, whose rule extends to the ends of the earth, who was granted the jawami’ al-Kalim (concise, comprehensive speech), for whom the entire earth was made a mosque, whose awe made disbelief tremble, who was given the scale of justice (mizan) along with iron to establish God’s proof over people. On him, prophethood was sealed, the Qur’an was revealed, and it was decreed on the tablet of existence that until the dawn of resurrection, God’s immutable guidance will only be found in the book he brought.
This blessed figure graced the world in this very month. There is no doubt that, because of his connection, this month is the envy of all others, and one feels that every moment of it should be spent in celebration and joy. But what is truly astonishing is that the likes of Abu Bakr, Umar, Uthman, Ali, Bilal, and Abu Dharr (PBUT) — whose love and devotion for him was their most precious possession—did not turn this month into a “month of celebration,” nor did they declare the day of his birth as the “Festival of the Prophet’s Birth” (Eid Milad). Despite this day dawning multiple times while they were alive, and this month returning year after year, their daily lives continued as usual. The river of their routine flowed uninterrupted, without even a ripple to disturb its course. How astonishing is this! What is the reason behind it?
Days like “Iqbal Day” and “Jinnah Day” are commemorated for people far lesser than him. If their admirers can arrange such celebrations on their birthdays, why not for the Dana-e-Subul, the Seal of the Prophets, the Master of all, who:
For years, I was perplexed by this dilemma, but thanks to Allah, I finally found the answer. Once the truth became clear, another truth also revealed itself: that all the shortcomings in our thinking arise from the way we look at things:
The reality is that we accepted him as the greatest, but as one among the figures we were familiar with—yet, he was not from among that category at all. As a result, all the days of the earth were his, but we confined him to being born on a single day; he was the radiant moon of every month, yet we only saw him rising on the horizon of Rabi’ al-Awwal. In God’s divine calendar, every year was named after him, but in our human calendar, his birthday fell in 570 CE, after the birth of Christ:
We tried to confine the ocean within a well, to bring the desert into a courtyard, and to make the sky into a cloak. But his companions—Abu Bakr, Umar, Uthman, Ali, Bilal, and Abu Dharr (PBUT) — saw the ocean as an ocean, the desert as a desert, and the sky as the sky. They realized that the one whose remembrance should illuminate every heart, and whose name should echo from the minarets of every mosque as each day breaks, could not be reduced to the figure of
رب رہچۂ تقیقح ارگ امدن رپدۂ ستما ستپر رجم اگنہ دیۂ وصرت
سینا ابغر راہ وک اشخب رفوغ وادی
ستما ستپر رجم اگنہ دیۂ وصرت
If the face of truth is veiled, The fault lies with our superficial, image-worshipping eyes.
Bestowed the dust of his path with the radiance of Mount Sinai.
The fault lies with our superficial, image-worshipping eyes.
a mere birthday or a month like Rabi’ al-Awwal. He, beloved beyond life and beloved by the world, could not be the figure of just one day or one month. He belongs to every day, every month, and every year. Thus, instead of an “Eid Milad-un-Nabi” or a “Rabi’ al-Awwal celebration,” there is but one call and one melody from dawn until dusk, (from the decline of the sun to the darkness of the night):
“I bear witness that there is no god but Allah, and I bear witness that Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah.”
بندپا نہیں کا لہلا ہی ہمغن لصف لگ و
للہاہبر وہ ہک زخاں، الاہٰل ال ا
This melody is not bound to the season of flowers and tulips: Whether spring or autumn, the cry remains: La ilaha ill allah. (1990)