Morrocan Earthquake
An Alternate Chance at Life Assignments from a Frightening Encounter
It was a regular evening, around 10:30 pm, when we gathered in the cozy living room for regale. My family was there — my parents, my family, and her hubby. Everything sounded ordinary until that moment. I had just finished my Isha prayer, but I must admit I was not completely present during it. My mind was preoccupied with the hustle and bustle of diurnal life.
And also it happed. The ground beneath us quivered, and the room shook violently. In those bare 30 seconds or lower, my world turned upside down. Strangely, I set up myself firmed in my president, my knowledge slipping down. I could not recall any coherent studies running through my mind.
Amidst the chaos, my mother began reciting her Shahada, the Islamic protestation of faith:
“I bear witness that there is no deity worthy to be worshipped but Allah, and I bear witness the Muhammad is His servant and messenger.”
Her unvarying faith filled the room. Artificially, I joined in. Meanwhile, my father supplicated fervently,” O Lord, save us, forgive us.”
Suddenly, my aged sister snapped me out of my muddle, crying,” What are you staying for? Get out of here then!” Those words acted as a wake-up call from my stupor, and without a second thought, I found myself rushing out of the house.
As I distanced myself from the trembling building, a flood tide of toughts overwhelmed me. What about my possessions? Was it foolish to even consider them at this moment? I came to realize how insignificant savings, properties, and possessions truly were in the face of this extremity.
Glancing back at the house, I had an epiphany. I had fled without thinking about my family — my parents, my sisters — none of them. I sat down, pulsing,trembling, and watched as they emerged from the house. In this vital moment, my mother held a vessel, sprinkling us with water to help us snap out of our shock.
Mixed feelings washed over me. I felt immense gratefulness for the safety of my loved ones and profound shame for my own egoism. While my family worked together as a team,had only thought about myself and my escape. It was a version of me I loathed, and I couldn’t fathom a life without them.
Tears welled up in my eyes, not just because I could have perished, but because I had witnessed firsthand how fragile life truly was. In the vicinity, people had lost their homes, turning what was formerly a haven into a dangerous place. Families had been torn piecemeal. I felt like I had been granted an alternate chance at life, a chance to witness the harsh reality of how fluently lives could be taken down.
I recalled verses from the Quran that sounded to speak directly to me. One verse, in particular, stood out
” Say,’ Indeed, the death from which you flee- indeed, it’ll meet you. also you’ll be returned to the Knower of the unseen and the witnessed, and He’ll inform you about what you used to do.”
These words reverberated with me deeply. I had indeed been running from death, desperately trying to save myself. But facing this hassle with mortality was a profound awakening. I realized how important I cherished life, which, in itself, was both beautiful and intimidating. While loving life is natural, I understood that getting too attached to it could damage my soul.
In just 30 seconds, I had endured a whirlwind of feelings and exposures. It was a alternate chance at life, an occasion to reassess my precedences and appreciate the fragile gift of actuality.
