What patrols did we not start for hijab?

Fars news agency community group “God softened iron on David (pbuh) and hearts on Muhammad (pbuh)”. This is a pleasant narration that testifies that the last messenger of God entered through the hearts and settled the desert of human existence. God, of course, had drawn the opposite point of this story for his beloved: “Wallo kent fazqa ghalyz al-qalb lan-fadzowa min-hawlek” (If you were hot-tempered and hard-hearted, people would disperse from around you). In front of us, there are only these two paths; Maximum absorption through the hearts in the Mohammedan way or…

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*I take shelter from the summer street fire to the metro station. I am stuck between the suffocation of heat and the fear of Corona. Out of necessity, I hold my breath in my chest and lower the mask so that the cool breeze in the station space can cure my blushing face. I return the mask to its place, without looking at the person next to me, I say helplessly: “The air is not hot; It’s hot”… a voice says in response: “Yes, really… God bless you. Your reward is with the Messenger of God (PBUH) who comes out in this heat with this tent cover. I turn to the owner of the voice. She is a fashionable woman who, according to existing categories, may be placed in the loose category of ordinary hijabs. I am surprised I thank you and say: Thank you. May God bless you and give you health. In any case, you observed this coverage as much as you could. “No,” he says again in the same respectful tone. It’s different… our bride is like you. In any situation, he is aware of his hijab. His morals are more beautiful than his hijab, his hijab is more beautiful than his morals. I always say, God reward me… To tell you the truth, I can’t fully observe my hijab like you do. Masha’Allah to you.”

*The hawker pushes her trolley bag ahead of her into the subway car and starts promoting her products as soon as she enters. As it comes forward, my eyes are filled with the image printed on a pen of its products! I am hesitant to say or not. How can I say it? To buy one of the customers who pulls a card, our eyes are tied together. I say with a smile: Goodbye. He answers with a smile: “Karbunt.” My fingers run up and down the ill-fitting image of a mass of produce hanging by a metal wire from a saleswoman’s cart. With the same smile, I calmly say: I wish this was not known… He caught my word and immediately said: “I want to reduce the size of these items today and tomorrow and put them all in a trolley bag. I don’t like these to be in front of my eyes either.” I say: Of course. Obviously, it is important for you too. “Garbont” says another and pushes his wheelbarrow forward…

*In the crowd of passengers in the subway car at dusk, who are all silently counting the minutes to reach their destination, suddenly the sound of a happy music makes everyone jump. In a few seconds, the space of the subway car looks like a wedding party! The reactions are different; some have come to Kyiv and accompany the music in different ways. Some are talking under their breath and others are drowning in their mobile phones without paying attention to this. In the meantime, the voice of Haj Khanami comes from the other side of the wagon, saying with a commanding tone to the itinerant musician children: “The month of Safar is not over yet. During the days of mourning, did you start knocking and knocking? The young girl who is standing next to me, with the same faint smile on her face from watching the boys playing, says quietly: “Oh, these are children. They do not understand much about these things. In this way, they make money.” Then, he turns his gaze towards me and continues: “Honestly, if someone tells me something in the form of commands and prohibitions, I get worse. It is very important how to say…”

*I get out of the train with a flood of passengers. I want to go to the exit from the ticket hall as fast as possible, when a scene in the corner of the hall draws my attention. Some chador girls with flowers go to one of the ladies whose shawl is about to fall on her shoulder. I go near them and hear that the girls, while giving flowers, say to that lady with a smile: “You are the special guest of Mr. Imam Hussain (AS). We invite you to come to our booth for a few minutes.” This sentence is enough for the young lady’s mood to change and the sky in her eyes to start raining. He joins the girls, sits on the chair of their small booth and as his tears continue to fall down his cheek and he washes off his makeup bit by bit, he says: “Just now I was telling my mother that God has forgotten me. It’s as if Imam Hussain (AS) doesn’t listen to Saddam anymore. I love them. Why don’t they watch?…”

One of the girls takes the hand of the young lady and says: “We have a challenge for our guests called the ‘mirror challenge’.” And with his finger, he points to the back of the young lady’s head and continues: “There are beautiful clips in front of the mirror that if you like, you can try them on your shawl and see your face in the mirror.” The young lady wipes her tears and gets up. As if he was waiting for an excuse for a change. He stands in front of the mirror, chooses one of the clips according to his taste. He pulls his shawl forward and frames his face with it. It seems that she got a good feeling from watching her veiled image in the mirror, laughing with the same tearful eyes. When saying goodbye, he hugs the girls and says: “I calmed down. Thank you for your invitation and suggestion.”

*I climb the subway stairs and drown in the sea of ​​black-clad crowd. I have been blessed with the luck of walking together with the remaining lovers from the Arbaeen walk. I look at every corner of this path of love, as if I see a segment of society; As much as you can say, no one’s place in this magnificent community is empty. In the meantime, teenage girls attract the most attention with their today’s strange coverings and fringes that overtake the headscarves in front of their faces and behind their heads. Let’s not ignore the truth, they have somehow become an awkward part of this Arbaini congregation and the cause of many people’s dissatisfaction. Unlike some religious ladies and gentlemen who are standing next to the procession and staring at these girls, a Haj woman who is sitting on a table on the side of the street to relieve her fatigue, says in a way that she can hear them: “I’ll go with you, mother.” May God protect you. May the owner of this event take care of you. Good luck in the end, God willing. May the prayers of Zainab Kabri (PBUH) be behind you…”

As the girls pass in front of Haj Khanam, they silently and sneakily try to hide their hair under a scarf. Now, Haj Khanum turns to her arms and says quietly: “Imam Hussain’s (Peace be upon him) council belongs to everyone.” These children could be in a thousand other places, but they prefer to express themselves here in this heat. Coming to the love of Imam Hussain (a.s.). God willing, the gentleman himself will take their hands and show them the way. Don’t let these children go down this path with these behaviors. Your art is to put these in the hands of Ahl al-Bayt (AS).

I pass in front of Haj Khanum and I think about what she saw in the raw clay and repeat to myself: “God softened the iron for David (pbuh) and for Muhammad (pbuh) the hearts”…

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