A Journey or a Road Trip?

At 13, I learned how to drive a car. At 15, I met Sahara, my best friend. At 18, I and Sahara don’t just
drive anymore. We also learned to skip classes, go to clubs, drink and smoke. We learned to lie from our
parents, we removed our hijab and enjoyed our life to the fullest. My parents thought that I was still
coming from school then, little did they know, I already dropped from my accounting class because I
have failed almost all my subjects. The fact that life have so much fun to offer brought me to the pit of
my saneness. Until one day, I found myself in a pitch of darkness. My parents found out everything;
about me losing my course, about me removing my hijab, and about me losing myself. And before I
knew, I lost them. My parents disowned me. I lost my way. I lost everything.

7 years have slowly passed. After receiving a sudden and a shocking news, I hurriedly went back to my
hometown. It was a 5 hour drive so I’m not expecting that I would still be able to see her. I was right
because when I came, she was all covered with a white sheet and people are carrying her to her soon to
be grave. I saw them putting down her corpse in the ground. I saw her body slowly receiving the soil
people are filling her. I saw everyone started to leave when she was fully covered and buried from the
ground. I was the only one left in front of her grave. Seeing her grave crept my heart. It filled my whole
being with fear that I didn’t recognize which came from. A tear escaped from my eyes when I slowly
turned my back at her. As I was going back to my car, a sob from my mouth which I kept controlling
since the moment I arrived finally came out. As I was slowly walking away from Sahara, my best friend, a
memories of us slowly dances to my mind. Our innocent smiles when we first met at our classroom
when we’re in third year high school, when got along with each other quickly because we both love
driving a car. Our innocent smiles when we went together at masgid, the purity within our eyes when
we gave each other our favorite hijabs, when we shared each other’s favorite surah from Qur-an. Those
memories kept on giving me Goosebumps.

My mourning self brought me to our old house. It has been seven years since I came here. It is still as
new as before. 7 years ago, when my parents found out everything about my missteps, I thought that
they would really disown me but they gave me another chance; we moved to another place and they
enrolled me to another university. I truly regretted what I did to my parents; so I have worked so hard to
regain their trust.

Since that the new owner of the house are our relatives too, I decided to spend my night in there.

It was quarter of the night when I found myself sweating like a marathon runner. Sahara visited me in
my dream and she was asking for a help. I saw myself being dragged by her to a burning fire. I was
refusing but a strong force was pushing me through her; I came out of my room and found myself
leading to the faucet and before I knew, I was making a wudu. It was the first time in while since I made
2 raka’at of salah during quarter of the night. It was the first time in a while since I felt this strong urge of
talking to him. The unexplainable, undefined feeling of guilt came rushing through me. As I started my
salah and utter my ‘takbiratul ihram’ and started reciting ‘Surah Al-fateeha’, I trembled with so much
emotion. Fear? Guilt? I am not sure. I just know was that I cried my heart out that night. I cried because I
realized that I was never a true friend to Sahara. I was never a real bestfriend to her. I cried knowing that
I neglected this most important phase of my life. I paid back my mistake to my parents but I forgot about
Allah, the only one who had let me live longer so i still regain my parents’ trust. What have i done? Why
have I forgotten about Him?

That morning, right after performing Salatul Faj’r, I hurriedly went back home. I have this strong urge of
seeing my family. I want to cry in my parents’ embrace. I was 3 kilometers away from our home when I
called my mother and asked her what she wants as ‘pasalubong’. While talking to her, I saw a fast
approaching truck and it was comimg in my way. I quickly maneuver the steering wheel to save myself
but it was too late. Right there, I realized that my ride was about to end. Right there, I realized all the
things I’ve done while taking this ride. I realized all the road signs i've ignored because i was having so
much fun. I realized that all these years, I thought I was having a journey. I thought that i have a certain
direction while driving my car. But I was wrong because all these years, I was just taking a ‘road trip’, a
ride with no certain destination and goal but only to have fun. I forgot to properly control the steering
wheel; and right now Allah is about to take control.

I was fond of driving eversince child; never have thought that my favorite hobby would also be my
ending. Have I properly repented from my sins? Have I ended up taking my journey or still ended up to a
roadtrip?

As the truck slow-motionedly hit my car, a feeling of unexplainable pain filled my body. A painful sound
escaped from my mouth while accepting my last pain in this life. And as I slowly closed my eyes with
tears, I uttered the words every Muslim dreams to utter during their last breath.

“Laa Ilaaha Illallah Muhammadurrasulallah”. And everything went dark.

“AND THE LIFE OF THIS WORLD IS NOTHING BUT PLAY AND AMUSEMENT.” Al-An’am (6:32)