The Price of Love


Observing Muharram away from home for the fourth year in a row – it grows on you, as I mentioned to someone. A small group of people from India, Pakistan, UK, Philippines, Iran with not much in common except the strong bond that brings them all together every night – the love of Ahlul Bait, the Progeny of Prophet Mohammad.

I was honored to host the first four Majalis in Manila for this odd group of 18-19 people at my place. Today was the fourth day, the last at my place.

My youngest son just came up to me, after everybody had left. He always offers me a tissue and gives me a hug everytime he sees me cry, during Majlis or when praying. Today he asked me, ‘Why do you cry when you listen to the Majlis?’ ‘For the love of Imam Hussain, my dear,’ I tried to answer him. ‘So love gives you pain? Because it makes you cry!’, said little S thoughtfully.

And it got me thinking that it all comes down to this – when all is said and done – Grief really is the price we pay for love!

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