Written and designed By Soumy Ana - Al Hidaayah

The Meaning of Life, after Sept. 11, 2001
“We will never be the same”
Image@2003- clipart.com
Written and designed
By
Soumy Ana
Sha’ban 1423 – October 2002
Sunni Waqf Books
http://www.ummah.com/islam/taqwapalace/soumy_ana.html

I did not mean to write this story, but after seeing so much and
reading so much about the subject, the story was ready to come
out. All materials are authentic.
The conference on Peace and Religions started. A man
adressed the audience.
Whether Muslims or non-Muslims, after september 11,
we will never be the same.
There is not one, unique response to september 11, but
as many responses as there are feelings and human beings in
America. I decided to let you hear people’s voices. Their
voices will speak much better than any speech I could come up
with.
An important threshold has been crossed, a step that does not
make any sense whatever the side we look at it. The world has
gone upside down. Time has been reversed. We do not evolve
anymore; we are walking backwards.
So I want you to take a step forward with me.
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The speaker stood up on his platform and proceeded by
showing slides of the disaster.
Everybody remembers the attack of september of the year 2001
on the World Trade Center and the Pantagon. Two planes
crashed in the towers with its passengers. Nobody revendicated
the event, but Muslims were accused, justly or unjustly, that is
still to be proved.
I will now read bits of letters I have received these past
months; some were written right after the catastrophy and some
many weeks afterwards; they are all dealing in one way or
another with the meaning of life. Why do we live? What for?
What is the place of erligion in our beliefs?
They do not try to prove anything. All these letters teach us
something about ourselves. You, and only you as individuals,
in your own conscience, can judge their worth for yourself.

FIRST LETTER:
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After World War Two, you said “Never again!” but you let
worse happen because it did not happen to your people!
The meaning of life, for me? There is no meaning.
The fittest survives in the life struggle. You have to fight fo
everything. Only smart people know why they are here and I’m
surely not one of them. […]
I heard voices calling, people crying and a lot of anger.
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As I saw the columns of plaster falling down like a water
fountain over the growth of modern buildings. I knew that
these cries would be the beginning of cries everywhere in the
world.
At the end of the world, say our scriptures, there will be so
much killing that one man will have the care of fifty women.
But how would that be true when the women are blasted along
with men? No discrimination. I wondered about that.
Women asked for perfect equality; they did not get equal pay
in jobs or more respect. Women of the fifties in America
expected to be treated well because they were women; the
women of the twenty first century expect to be equal because
they are humans, not respected.
Soon, they’ll have equal opportunities to fight but few will
respond to the call. You will see. A woman is not created for
fighting men; she is created to fight her own jihad while giving
life and cuddling. It is enough for her. So one man for fifty
women, I believe it. Men die, women assume. But men
nowadays die without honor and women live without respect.
Murder has always been for men and torture for women.
And they said, “Never again!”

As the smoke enters the nearby habitations in a cloth of dirt,
making the former inhabitants’memories vanish under the false
cover of time, window panes have begun to shatter and splash.
My heart shivers and cracks at a thousand places. Our world
will shatter and splash.
For two buildings crashed; whole countries would be wiped out
and lives of Mulims would become cheap.
And you will not care. You will not care,
Because you do not know that your neighbor is Muslim.
Because you do not know that hundred of Muslims lives have
already left the twin towers, crushed under the litter of steel.
They were your colleagues and you did not know.
Because, in this country, when one person does a bad thing, his
entire community has to respond for him.
Because it is easier to retaliate over those who stay than over
those who are guilty.
You said “Never again!” and yet it happens again, day after
day, over and over again! Because you meant: Never again to
My People! Never again to My Race! Never again to My
Country! Never again can others have the right to live if I am
suffering.
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SECOND LETTER
So many people are recommemorating, here.
In Afghanistan, there is no family left to commemorate.
There was a prophet (AS) who sat at the roots of a tree. An ant
came across his body and bit him. Angered, this prophet set
fire to the tree. Allaah admonished him, “What! For one ant
that bites you, you kill a whole community that praises me?”
Muslims would not kill ants or bees or any creature that is
innocent or useful to the environment. They would not kill the
innocent of fear of God.
You have no fear.
Flags were raised everywhere in America, on each car, before
each door, on people’s hats and on their shirts.
People worship their country.
You have no fear of God.
We fear Allaah.
We fear injustice because the prayer of the victim is heard by
Allaah and answered.
For us, “religion is rather the matter of dealing with others with
justice and equity” (a haadith). Allaah revealed: “Let there be

of you an Ummah to call to the good, to enjoin virtue and
forbid vice” [Qur’aan 3:104]
When Islam came into contact with the Persians, the
Hellenistic cultures and others, it was rejected and fought back.
In spite of all the efforts of the governments, civilians made
Islam prevail and found in it the realization of their dignity and
justice and equality of opportunity.
Now Muslims are depicted as a horde of barbarians thirsting
for terrorism. Peaceful and understanding people have become
violent and intolerant.
How is that?
Ignorance?
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THIRD LETTER:
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We have prayed for you.
We have kept minutes of silence in the memory of yours who
perished in the flames.
The man before me in the corridors of September11, was a
Muslim. I hold onto his hand and he dragged me through the
dust and the smoke. I followed, insecured, afraid that there
would be a hole opening under the staircase. We were blinded.
He kept on saying, “Courage! Allaah is great. He is kind to
those who put their trust in Him.”
I am not a Muslim, but a Muslim gave me strength. I ran to the
first mosques that were destroyed and gave alms for the
repairs. I learned that hundreds of harassments happened every
year to Muslims in America. Despite that, I was received with
opened arms. Nobody told me to leave. Nobody said I was an
enemy.
So we prayed for you.
So we wore the hejab [head covering] along with your women
in solidarity.
The hejab is in our Bible, but nobody wears it. My sister is a
Amish; she always covered her hair in black and does not
mingle with men.

We have the ten commandments as well.
On of them is, “Thou shall not lie!” I believe Muslims cannot
even lie while telling a joke. I believe what they say.
FOURTH LETTER:
I am a Muslim.
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I was walking in the streets and people began staring at me. I
felt scared. I run away and pulled down my hejab. I had tears
in my eyes. I felt ashamed, but I was determined. I thought
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people would not remember my name is Jamilah. I did not
want to die. I want to be left in peace.
Now, I have questioned who I am. I have questioned my faith.
People started asking thousands of questions I did not have the
answers to.
Why Muslims fast? Euh! I don’t know; it is just a pillar of our
religion.
Why Muslims change their names? Euh! Do they?
Are you allowed to have tatoos? Euh! I am not sure.
People started asking me so many unexpected questions; they
tried in so many ways to identify and compare themselves to
us, to me, that I understood why I had ripped off the hejab
from my head: I did not know any of the answers to their
questions. I was as ignorant as they were! And I was born
Muslim in America. I forgot that I had my own identity. Sure, I
liked to be different, unique, I was proud to be a Muslim, but
not if I had to be the enemy. Without knowledge, I had nothing
to hold on to; I had just name of Muslim.
Now that I care about my religion, now that the fear left me, I
will want to find who I am.

FIFTH LETTER:
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I remember, before the towers fell down to the ground and
since they started going up in flames it was maybe fourty
minutes. I was stunned. It was as if I had lost my family. I just
thought about all these people inside.
There was this exposition afterwards. Everybody brought a
picture they had taken this day. In one of them, a building
stood opened and dark like a gushing wound spitting metal and
rocks. At the edge of it we could hardly see a lady, maybe
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ready to jump in the open air or clinging for a few more
minutes of life.
I felt small, humble.
What was her life on top of a hundred of bodies trapped inside
at her feet?
Terrible!
Terrible.
We never thought such a thing might happen.
And yet it was nothing compared to the wars we are helping in
the Muslim lands. We will never be able to know how terrible
war is.
Do we care?
We care only for ourselves, I believe. We feel secure, here, on
the other side of the world. On TV, things do not appear way as
bad as reality. We do not feel concerned; we feel blessed.
Everyone of us was touched by september 11. There isn’t
anyone in New York who did not have an acquaintance, a
friend, a loved one who personally knew someone in the World
Trade Center. There wasn’t anyone who had not been in the
restaurant or went for a conference. There wasn’t anyone who

had not looked at one of the tallest buildings in the world and
looked at it as the symbol of America’s strength.
We always say, ‘It only happens to others’. How did it happen
to us? Well, everything can happen.
SIXTH LETTER:
Palestinians danced at the news.
We cannot feel like people in a situation of war. How can we
even begin to understand?
We were all tested.
We love this country but we do not love all its policies like
Americans do not love all of its governemnt policies.
The American Muslims put the flag of America on their
doorsteps out of solidarity. Afterall, they were Americans too!
Muslim forums on the Internet became filled with words of
hatred and also words of compassion.
Some Americans took the shahada [became Muslims] to
demonstrate their love for Islam.
How many reverts to Islam were in these towers? Isn’t life
absurd? I cry for America, for the hatred. I am ashamed for our
citizens, here, in America. They took us a scapegoat.
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But I know that God has His plans that we do not know about.
How do we expect to even begin to understand?
SEVENTH LETTER:
Shreds of lives were left behind like the standing pieces of
walls in the streets of New York.
As I hurried under a makeshift shower to wash off the stinging
ash and dust envelopping us, I wondered if all the people’s
prejudices deepened by ignorance would become visible now
that the coating of civility had dissolved.
Then people began to retaliate.
“We’ll beat them all!” they said.
Flows of students were redirected. Fear was there, palpable.
Doctorates who had travelled to Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Pakistan
for the holidays did not get a re-entry visa, stucked in place, in
their own countries. Money and energy lost in vain. What is the
meaning in all that?
There was this sculpture of the World Trade Center at
the bottom of the street. It depicted a businessman opening a
suitcase or a lap top. The steel sculpture seemed to stand for all

the people who had left. At seeing it, many people asked
themselves this question: What is the meaning of life?
Some said, “Struggling, fighting to stay alive” was the meaning
of life.
There was this woman who had been badly burned and she
could not have made it without the support of her husband and
the conviction that she still had something to give to this life. It
took her a year or so to be normal again, with just the scars as
reminders.
I thought about Afghanistan and all these people who did not
have our hospitals. They were the anthill punished for the sting
of one ant. So the statue seemed no longer to have the same
meaning to me. This statue of the Center, cheap and brownish,
all covered in dust that made it look like a skin, it represented
to me the human being. It showed us, crunched under the load
of life, searching for answers in our belongings or in a virtual
world.
I thought that the meaning of life was just that: trying to
understand, alone, even in the middle of the destructions. It
was finding why we were alive. Why all that? Why being
tried?
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EIGHTH LETTER:
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People moved quickly; there was a real sense of confusion.
Some people sat their heads tightly gripped in their hands,
some people were chanting, some distributed water, some
hugged each other, some walked ahead following those before
them. They all held candles in their hands, as if showing the
path to those who were dead and showing the path to those
who were alive towards their tight circle of life. But which
path?! Silence.

Nobody knew the right path. There were many paths to our
messy lives, they all seemed to say. I am an alcoolic; I have
divorced my third wife, looking to remarry; my father is gay
and it is ok; I speak in tongues and I have a Jinn for
companion; I aborted twice, and my third child, I had it without
a man; my wife is fat and fats are beautiful; I am an addict, but
I’m doing well. I am normal; what’s wrong with me?
All those faces spoke their own history. They looked for a
guidance but found only comfort for their emotions.
Flags sprang up from everywhere as well as slogans like, “God
bless America” or “Freedom will be defended”, as if God could
not bless the whole Earth and as if it was a question of
Freedom.
America was not attacked because people hated its way of life
or were jealous if it. We heard everything! America had been
attacked because of its foreign policy.
One Muslim could have walked in the middle of those candles
and be a candle by himself. Each Muslim has candle lights on
his forehead, hands, knees. Each sincere Muslim has a
guidance. Each and every Muslim has the exact same guidance.
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But Muslims say, “You have your religion; I have my religion.
No compulsion. No interference. We just live side by side.”
Throughout Islamic history non-Muslims have occupied
important posts among Muslims. The prophet himself (SAWS)
quoted, “Truly the best of men for you to employ is the man
who is strong and trusty” (Q. 28: 26)
The first ambassador of the Prophet to the Negus of Abyssinia
was Amr Ibn Umayyah Al-Damri who had not yet embraced
Islam. And Umar (RU), the second caliph, appointed a Greek
Christian as the chief accountant at Medina, the heart of the
Islam state.
“That which you want for yourself, seek for mankind” said our
prophet (SAWS).
"O You who believe, stand out firmly for Justice, as witnesses
to Allah, even against yourselves, on your parents or your kin."
(Q. 4:135).
Prophet Muhammad (SAWS) warned his followers of
grave consequences if they oppressed the non-Muslims. He
said, “I will be the opponent of one who harms a non-Muslim
and I will speak against these whom I oppose on the Day of
Judgement.” "God forbids you not, with regard to those who

fight you not for faith, nor drive you out of your home from
dealing kindly and justly with them. For God loves those who
are just." (Q. 60: 8)
Similarly, Muslims persecuted in their homeland for their faith
have received protection from the Abyssian Christian King
inside his kingdom as many Muslims nowadays are helped by
the West. The Prophet (SAWS) remembered the generosity of
the Abyssinian King and his people. Later, when a delegation
of Abyssinian people came to visit the Prophet (SAWS), he
said "These are my special guests. These people have taken
good care of the Muslims. I have an obligation to them. I want
to return their kindness with an act of kindness."
NINTH LETTER:
It was like a cyclone; it moved up in the air, reaching into the
houses and pervading the streets. It was as if we could vanish
any moment. People put their hands on their temples or over
this mouth, then their started running away at each crack and
fall of the buildings.Everyone raced to get ahead of it, out of its
embrace. And I thought ‘why racing?’ as if we could out-
distance our fate!
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But I looked for shelter all the same, like everybody, and
everywhere I went, the thick smoke and the dust of death
pursued me and I thought no one could escape his death.
As the light filtered over the gloom, it created eerie effects. A
minister emerged and asked me if I did not mind if he prayed
for my safety. I held onto his hands as if he was going to save
me by his prayers, but I could not pray for myself.
I delegated them to him.
It was like a gray snow that blurred at our feet when we
walked.

The wind blew a white powder that was so fine it clung on
people’s faces and clothes and invaded the cracks of their
shoes.
On one of the cars stationed in the street, someone had graved
in the chalk dust, ‘I survived’. That was one of the first
shrines.
People began to take each other’s bodies as a shrine too.
The pain and the emotions were raw. We clung to each other
for solace.
In a town where the poor was pushed aside like a dirty clothe
and where nobody had time to even smile to each other,
kindness began to erupt in bursts of cries and generous acts.
I witnessed this and I thought, ‘People grasped the meaning of
life for a few minutes today.’
Now, maybe they were ready to learn about life.
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TENTH LETTER:
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Every Muslim is the brother of another Muslim. When one
Muslim needs shelter, our mosques and homes open wide, our
hearts feel compassion, we strive to help each other to find a
place to stay, to ensure each other’s welfare. There is no place
for indifference. It is a sacred duty. Allaah says that a Muslim
will not begin to believe until he hopes for others what he

hopes for himself. And the definition of civilization is safety
for everyone as well as each person’s basic needs fulfilled.
And each person’s basic needs are fulfilled because Muslims
do not do anything but to please Allaah.
The meaning of life in Islam is to worship Allaah. We come
and we obey.
I think in every tragedy there is a blessing.
I think that people have rediscovered the meaning of life; they
have started thinking seriously about God; this is a miracle.
Everybody realized they were going to die one day, that maybe
this was the occasion of starting afresh once, or at least try.
Lives have been changed since september.
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The speaker lokked straight at the audience, and declared:
See, when people here think of living, they just say,
“Carpediem”, “Take it easy”, “One day at a time.”
In Islam, everyone of us live for the minute in the knowledge
that we may die today. So everyone has to do his best.
“Live as if you were going to die.” Do your best, always.
A hadith says that man is like a traveller who sits under the
shade of a tree for a time, then leaves and never comes back.
His duty is to increase his good deeds. When I think of it, for
most people, the meaning of life is to grasp the moment and be
grateful for what they have, looking only to those who have
less when they want to compare themselves.
I asked people the meaning of life in the roads of
Manhattan, people from all over America, people who had
come here to help. We even created a mural. People from
originally different nationalities and from different
backgrounds came in. It was a success.
Few really dealt with God. None said, ‘We are here to worship
God’. Actually one said, “’I maybe didn’t always try my best,
but I had always good intentions’ The guardian of Paradise

answered, ‘If you can be sincerely wrong, that prooves that
sincerity is not the issue, so trust Christ for your salvation.
Believe in him and you will be saved, acts 16: 31’”.
This is how I knew how different we Muslims were. This is
how I knew people had grasped only parts of the truth but had
lost the global guidance. The forest blocked the view of the
mountain. In Islam, all is judged by intentions. That is fair.
Of course, the main intention is todo everything for Allaah’s
sake.
Other graffitis read, randomly:
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“One day we bought a house with a garden. There was a spruce
standing there, fourty feet tall. One day we had a storm and it
got uprooted, lying on its sides, its roots in the open. It was
raining and the tree weighted tons, but my dad said, “Let’s put
it straight back! It will grow again.” So my two brothers and I
and my dad put it straight back into the ground. Now, it is sixty
feet tall and it is like it has never been defeated. Each time I
feel discouraged, I remember this tree and the confidence of
my dad.”
“One day I came very close to lose my life. I walked on the
other side of fear, beyond fear. I had finished being scared
of everything, everyone, scared of losing.
I felt like suddenly I had had a lease on life. Thus, I quit
wasting time, and I left out all inessentials.
I finished all my pojects.
I told people things I felt.
I expressed my love. There was no holding back.
You cannot add meaning to your life, you just have to know
why you are here and you make things point to it.”

“One day I was lost in the Sierra. Suddenly birds began to
gather around me. As I walked towards them, they would make
a terrible racket then moved back. We did this all night. I
started observing details and I could recognize each bird by its
particularities. I started making contact, dialoging with them
and instead of being scared of the desert, the snakes and the
coyotes, and the dark, I felt secure; it was like my family. They
gave me a goal. I did not feel alone anymore.
I was walking in harmony with them, not disturbing things
around. I knew that what was around would not disappear with
me, so there was nothing vital for the world about myself that I
needed to protect.”
“When I was in Africa, I was told the story of two men.
One man was crippled and could not walk. The other one
carried him on his shoulders because he was blind.
A wild beast attacked them. The blind one threw his burden on
the ground. The crippled died because of his handicap but the
one who was healthy died too because he could not see; the
crippled was his eyes.
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Other people are our eyes and watch the way for us; they tell us
how to direct our lives in a purposeful way; they are the elders.
What would we do without our elders?”
“In my tribe, everything staid inside the tribe or the family.
We followed what the ancestors had said before and our
children followed what we said.
When the Evangelists came, they talked about another God. To
believe was going out of my circle of friends. To convert was
to live for something different from my tribe.

Life is like that: going out of the circle and fly of one’s own.
Otherwise, life is the fulfilment of one own’s expectations,
fitting into the peer’s group and seeking superiority in what we
do eveyday. In fact, we do not fit into life, but rather life fills
the dreams and goals that we set.”
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“The meaning of life? It’s a circle: going to work, to your
family, to bed, to work again.
You live only for your free time at the end of the working day
and that’s all.”
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“The meaning of life?
It is to live until you are satisfied, without extra luxury or
things you do not need.”
“The meaning of life is my work. My job gives a meaning to
my life. It becomes meaningful when I am useful to someone.
Selling cheap makes people happy so I am myself happy.
I a selling happiness.”
“Science prooved that whatever we do affects our family,
our society, the whole world. A small wind here means
maybe a tornado on the other side of the world. Knowing
this truth, we cannot pursue immediate gain anymore. We
have exploited everything around us without restraint, we
have to see the consequences .
There is future without understanding our past. How do we
gain joy if we do not understand pain? That’s our
responsibility.”

“You can be an ordinary teacher, come to class, give a few
grades, do your work honestly, then forget about the people
you just met.
You can also be a person and look at your students as
individuals. You can care about them, without knowing them.
Islam is caring.
When I go to class, I manage to teach my students something
about life.
I plant a seed.
They are so young!
They need seeds to find their balance, to be healthy.
They look as if they do not listen, they are proud, they know
everything, but they do listen to me; they open a space in
themselves for my words. They are learning. I know that my
words vibrate and echoe. But I do not know where and that’s
ok.
I always tell them, ‘If you remember me in a few years from
now, I would have failed you, but if you remember my words,
you remember your discoveries, then I would have done my
job properly.’
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We remember people’s faces or behavior, but what do we
remember of their words, of what their thoughts, of what they
expressed, of their emotions, of their teaching? I am always
attentive to my students’ emotions and thoughts.
People are ashamed of what they feel.
I am proud and amazed when I read that our prophet (SAWS)
used to cry out there in the open for everyone to see, and it was
thought normal.
I dislike the way American men are raised. Soon, women are
falling on the tracks as well. They are rough; they think rough.
But sometimes they open up, and I am here to encourage. I tell
them it is ok; it won’t affect their grade. {smile}
Men do not cry easily, it is not like us women who cry while
reading a book or while being bruized ever so little. They do
not speak as much. This is true even when we are little. If you
leave a little girl alone in a shop, she will just stay where she is,
talk and talk or just cry her heart’s content; instead, a boy
jumps and runs everywhere. It is just the way we are made.
Unfortunately, education stresses the difference. Parents
always tell their sons, “Men are taught, they do not cry; they
are on top,” and, “Women are patient, compassionate, pretty

and kind.” So, to tell someone, “I am mad at you” “I love you”
or “I need you” is hard for them. In Islam, we have to be frank;
we have to tell people that we love them; there is nothing
dimishing in the saying. On the contrary, it is miraculous; it
strenghtens the ties of kinship.
The companions of the Prophet, may Allah be pleased with
them, were never ashamed of being just human beings.
The meaning of life, for me, is to let go of our feelings, of what
we think, it is not to be afraid to share. Children never hide
what they feel, the ideas they come up with; this is why they
are thought innocent. We say, ‘A child never lies’.
Men should have the same right.
One should never force others to lie by a wrong attitude.
This is why I am patient and watchful of the seeds I plant.
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