By: Mujitaba HibbatulKhaliq
When I was around ten or eleven years old, Jalsa was everything a child could imagine. To me, it was a playground, a place to reunite with my long-missed acquaintances, and a place where I could run around freely knowing fully well that if anything happened to me or I got lost, it’s just a matter of time before my mum found me. I always looked forward to the special month ‘December’ and by the time it rolled in, I had already started my own official countdown, with excitement and anticipation patiently waiting for the day we start the journey. I had one habit I inculcated from one of my old acquaintances, which is saving ahead of the golden day. I would carefully save a portion of the pocket money which I received on days prior to the month of December. I would tuck it away so I could buy snacks and small treats during Jalsa. It was not just about the fun, rather it was more about planning ahead, feeling a sense of independence as I spent the money I had saved. Back then, it was all about fun, laughter, and the profound happiness of having to see familiar faces that I had missed. I never thought of it as more than that. It was just a special time in the year, a safe haven of joy, freedom and a little bit of adventure. Little did I know that a particular Jalsa would change my mindset, and everything forever.
As I grew older, Jalsa remained a place I eagerly awaited, but my perspective shifted. That year, I carried a deep worry in my heart. It was about my upcoming exams. I wanted to study well, do my best, and succeed, but I also prayed for something more personal. I needed Allah to guide me in starting to observe my five daily prayers consistently. I had tried several times but never succeeded.
During this particular jalsa, the fifth khalifat, Hazrat Mirza Masroor Ahmad (aba), delivered a message that struck me profoundly. He talked about patience, dedication, and seeking Allah’s guidance in all aspects of life. His words seemed to speak directly to my heart, filling me with clarity and reassurance. For the first time, I felt like I could achieve both my goals: focus on my studies and begin practicing my prayers faithfully. It was at that moment, surrounded by thousands of feelings entirely connected to my heart, I knew that my prayers had been answered. It was not dramatic, there were no fireworks, no sudden miracle. All there was was a deep, unshakable clarity and resolve. It was at that moment I also realized that the Jalsa ground was indeed sacred. And Alhamdulillah, whenever I remembered that year, tears of gratitude wells up in my eyes, because I had finally let Allah’s guidance in my life.
Leaving the jalsa ground that year, I carried a sense of calm, purpose and determination that I had never experienced before. That single moment stayed with me and became a reminder that answers don’t always come in flashy ways, but they usually arrive exactly when needed. From that year onward, it became a sacred place where memories, prayers and life changing realizations intertwine.
