Farewell to the Friend of God
The last time my heart felt this particular kind of painful, aching restlessness was the day my brother died. On Friday night, i couldn't sleep at all, and i couldn't bring myself to eat suhoor or iftar on Saturday. I drank tea, but had no appetite or desire for anything. All day, my heart felt haunted by the gravity of an impending loss that felt too heavy to fathom.
Language has no language to describe what befalls the heart when a friend of God leaves this world.
After Maghrib, following hours of people insisting that the rumors of Sayyid's death were false, i raised my hands in dua. But as soon as i uttered the words "o Allah, prolong his life", my soul told me that the one i was praying for had already gone to meet his Beloved. Shortly thereafter, the confirmations began pouring in online.
In recent months, i had been compulsively watching and rewatching that beautiful video of Sayyid talking to the little boy who wanted to become a martyr, and i had the bittersweet realization that Sayyid was describing his own impending destiny: a life of service to Islam and humanity, followed by martyrdom in his 80s. The smile on his face in that video was so telling. So i began to mentally prepare myself for his loss, realizing that that day must be imminent. At the beginning of February, it struck me that this was likely going to be the season in which martyrdom was written for him.
Still, being prepared didn't take away the pain. There are so few souls i have seen in this life that contain the kind of softness that soothes me and makes me feel that my own soul is not a stranger to this world; Sayyid was one of them. In his tenderness, i saw a mirror of the tenderness of Rasulallah (pbuh). In the sweetness of his manners and speech, i saw the depth of his love for the Ahlulbayt (as), and the indelible mark which that love had left upon every facet of his being. In his gentle idealism and principled courage, i saw that it was safe to resist the harsh, brutal rationalism that governs so many; to be both audaciously positive and audaciously brave in one's outlook on the world.
The timing of his martyrdom is itself remarkable, a striking proof of the perfection of God's plan. He was martyred so soon after the satanic nature of his enemies was clearly unmasked for the entire world to see via the Epstein files. In past decades, the truth was so muddled by propaganda that it was difficult for the wider masses to see; it could not be any clearer now who was on Haqq and who was on Batil. Never before can i remember evil being so thoroughly unveiled, and it only makes sense that ultimate goodness, too, had to come to the forefront to challenge it.
Sayyid was the picture of taqwa, 'ishq, and tawakkul, and i stem my tears this morning by telling myself the same thing i used to remind myself of after i lost my brother. If i truly understand death... if i truly know it as a reunion with the Beloved- as a life more vividly, truly alive than this one- how can i claim to love someone, yet grieve when they begin that blissful journey toward the Beloved? Doesn't a lover always want the greatest khayr for the ones she loves? What greater khayr could exist than the nearness of the Beloved, the One whose yearning permeates the fabric of every desire we have ever felt?
And what could i possibly say to capture the bliss that Sayyid is now experiencing in these very moments? As soon as i think of him, i can taste that happiness as if it is occurring within my own soul. The moth is only satisfied when it burns in the flame of love; the heart of the lover is only satisfied when it burns in the flame of martyrdom. What kinder, more beautiful fate could have been written for a lover like Sayyid Khamenei? If we truly love him, how could our aching hearts not rejoice that he has finally attained his heart's deepest desire?
Dear Sayyid... we send you with so much love, even as our hearts shatter at the depth of the void you leave behind. Though i never had the honor of meeting you, my soul has often thought of you as its intimate friend, its unmet teacher, its gentle guardian, its loving father. It was such an honor to have witnessed the beauty of your being, even from afar.
I have just one complaint as you leave us: the world is often a lonely place for lovers- it does not understand us, and we do not understand it. Please ask the Imam of our Time (atf) to console our hearts and be a friend to us, as he has always been to you, and make his love so manifest in us that even his enemies are altered by it- either through the alchemy of reformation, or the submission of defeat. We will follow your example and remain steadfast and faithful, never bowing or bending to falsehood, hoping to someday join you in drinking the sweet wine of shahada in all its forms.
How beautiful is your naseeb to have returned to the Beloved in the most noble of His months. How blessed is your legacy to have left this world as an enemy of the oppressors and a friend of the oppressed.
With deepest love,
R
