A Very Superficial Post on Love
And among His Signs is this that He created for you mates from among yourselves that ye may dwell in tranquility with them and He has put love and mercy between your (hearts); verily in that are Signs for those who reflect. [Qur’an 30.21]
I first reflected on this ayat when, years ago, I read Amina Wadud’s Qur’an and Women. In the book Wadud spent time explaining certain terms in this verse, including azwaj, sukoon, and nafs to get a better understanding of what Qur’anic soulmates really are. For instance, the verb litaskunū (that you may find tranquility) comes from the trilateral root sīn kāf nūn. (In this post I will focus on sukoon.) According to Project Root List the root translates to:
to be quiet, rest/repose/dwell/lodge, inhabit, stop/still, subside. Tranquility, security, mercy, blessing
This idea of tranquility made me wonder what kind of feeling of rest does one obtain upon finding their mate in life? The kind I felt when I was sitting at Al-Masjid al-Nabawi as close to Riaz-Ul-Jannah as possible? An inexplicable tranquility that made one’s soul feel at rest. Is it the idea that one can come to rest after having ascertained who their partner in jannat will be? Or the kind of spiritual tranquility that I felt after climbing to the top of a mountain in Ourika Valley, Morocco in sweltering heat to have discovered a pool of ice cold water? I.e. A materialized metaphor of the completion of the human struggle to reach their goal. Or a completely different feeling?
Wadud seems to say it’s upon reuniting with the last part of your soul that one feels at rest:
In the Qur’an, the essential contingent male/female pairs in humankind function on a physical, social, and moral level. Just as the essential male/female is contingency, so, too are the physical beings; there is a tranquil link between the human pair, man and woman: ‘Among His signs is this: that he created azwaj for you from your own anfus so that you may find rest in them’ (30:21). Man is intended as a comfort to woman; woman is intended as a comfort to man. This statement does not make it a reality. However, the Qur’an clearly depicts a necessary link between the functional members of each gender, like an echo of the contingency between the essential pairs of all created things.
How wonderful would it be to find this necessary link, this comfort, this last part of your soul! Besides Wadud’s explanation, one can simply romantically contemplate this ayat for hours. The Qur’an tells us that The-One exists, and this promise is so beautiful that God states that it is a Sign that we can reflect upon as a proof of His message.
So, after reflecting on what this verse means, how does this ayat apply to those who have yet to get married? An ayat, i.e. a sign, that has become ubiquitous to single, 20-something year old women’s ears when one speaks about marriage or simply attends a wedding. The ayat that perhaps causes many women at my age to secretly lament for they have not seen the beatific promise by God come to reality. An ayat that makes one wonder if it applies to all of humankind when studies have shown that the divorce rate amongst American Muslims has increased dramatically. When so many other Muslimahs don’t seem to be getting married, and after looking at potential suitors one gets dismayed that there aren’t many men that seem to understand how to treat a woman. We all know of the horror stories of domestic violence (which includes the often ignored, due to lack of legitimization perhaps, verbal/emotional abuse) and that many who do seek divorce from terrible husbands are shunned by their community.
What about the mixed signals one gets from society itself? Tranquility comes along with the idea of permanence, but so many love songs today seem to speak of love as an ephemeral quality. They often speak of love in terms of sex (which gets less exciting the less mysterious one is), physical beauty (which fades away upon time), or simply speaking of loving a young woman. Even in Sufi poetry when one speaks of finding God through metaphors of women they speak not of tranquility but of the ecstasy of loving a virgin-women (i.e. someone who they have not spent too much time with such as wife) or sexual pleasure.
There are still a plethora of Sufi poems that deal with yearning for one’s love (as a metaphor for yearning for God’s love):
Hearken to the reed, how it tells its tale
and bemoans the pain of separation:
“Ever since I was cut from my native reed-bed
all the world weeps when it hears my song.”
Trans. Annemarie Schimmel
Are these poems supposed to help those who were unable to find the promised tranquility upon obtaining a divinely sanctioned mate? I am still in my infancy of understanding Sufi poetry, so this is nothing more than a note to myself.) What about the various degrees of love? Which kind of ‘love’ ensures tranquility?
Reason, religion and shame –
love has conquered all three!
-Shah ‘Abdul Latif
Trans. Annemarie Schimmel
Clearly, this is not the kind of love being discussed in the Qur’anic ayat. This madness that compels one not to think rationally is not the kind of love that will bring about tranquility. Yet, it is the kind of love that is frequently discussed in today’s society. Are we being deceived into seeking the wrong kind of love? However, it is undeniably true that upon initially meeting that-someone-special euphoria erupts from acknowledging the existence of the unknown, the facets of a human being that we have yet to understand, and only time (or risky actions) will lead us to the exciting discovery. But once everything is discovered why should we stay? Is that why so many believe that marriage is nothing more than an [patriarchal] archaic institution?
The idea of two people changing together and—more importantly— accepting each others changes over a 50-year span is delusional unless that person is undeniably your best friend in the whole world. Ever. [via. Many more articles can be found on this, I’m only posting this one]
Must we return to the idea of tranquility to be able to approach marriage in a manner that allows permanance, so that we don’t have to be nervous that the person we sign a nikah contract with is the one we’ll inshaAllah be spending eternity with in heaven?
I’m not sure, I haven’t made my mind on this issue, and wonder constantly whether signing a nikah contract would result in the fulfillment of this promise made by God, or will be nothing more than a test of patience. [Off to a tangent– the ‘love’ I can relate to is from the Sufi poetry on Zulaikha and Yusuf, in which their story is really about Zulaikha finding Prophet Yusuf (AS) beautiful for the reason that he exudes the Beauty of God, and as such she is truly seeking God. “People always look at Yusuf’s torn garment-/But who saw Zulaikha’s torn and broken heart?” – Asad Bilgrami. As Annemarie Schimmel writes, Zulaikha is an ” indefatigably seeking, unspeakably suffering, loving woman.”]
Perhaps I should give up on seeking this tranquility, ecstasy, or euphoria. I’m already at the age that one starts seeing a hijabi girl as an old maid. The risk of marriage turning into a test of patience is difficult, and I wonder if someone like I can handle such emotional turmoil. Or perhaps I should pray that I end up with someone like the Prophet (ṣallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam):
Once as he ṣallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam was sitting in a room with ‘Aisha raḍyAllāhu ‘anha fixing his shoes, ‘Aisha happened to look to his blessed forehead and noticed that there were beads of sweat on it. Mesmerized by the majesty of that sight she remained transfixed staring at him long enough for him to notice.
The Prophet ṣallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam said, “What’s the matter?” She replied, “If Abu Bukair Al-Huthali, the poet, saw you, he would know that his poem was written for you.” The Prophet ṣallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam asked, “What did he say?” She replied,
“Abu Bukair said that if you looked to the majesty of the moon, it twinkles and lights up the world for everybody to see.”
So the Prophet ṣallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam got up, walked to Aisha, kissed her between the eyes, and said,
“Wallahi ya Aisha, you are like that to me and more.”
[Two things to notice: First, he kissed her on her forehead, a place I consider one usually kisses when someone truly loves another (as per example from my own family.) Second, he said Wallahi. As we know the Prophet ṣallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam does not lie, so the term Wallahi must only be used to stress his statement. ]
This is not a very well-written or even thought out first post. Oh well.