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- Omar Sadat ক ফোটা চোখের জল ফেলেছ যে তুমি? সম্প্রতি সুযোগ হয়েছিল পবিত্র মদিনা নগরীতে নবীজির রওজাতে ইবাদত করার। সেই ইবাদতের মধ্যেই আমাদের প্রিয় নবীর বেদনা, সংগ্রাম, আত্মজিজ্ঞাসা আর স্রষ্টার প্রতি অবিচল বিশ্বাস নিজের ভেতরে অনুভব করার চেষ্টা করেছিলাম। সেই আত্মবোধন লেখা হিসেবে ছাপা হয়েছে যুগান্তর পত্রিকায়। মূল লেখাটি বাংলায় প্রকাশিত আর সাথে লেখাটি ইংরেজিতে অনুবাদ করে দেওয়া হল। How Many Tears Have You Shed? As the night deepens, the question draws closer. One begins to wonder, when we think of someone, do our eyes truly fill with tears? Or do we merely hear stories without ever truly feeling them? Think of a boy whose life began with absolute emptiness. His father was gone before he was even born. At six, his mother passed away suddenly. By eight, his grandfather too was no longer there. No brother, no sister, no formal education. People surrounded him, yet within him stretched a profound loneliness. In that lonely life, death returned again and again. He buried three of his sons with his own hands in small graves. He witnessed the deaths of more of his children. His beloved wife passed away quietly. One by one, his companions were martyred. Each time, it seemed as though this might finally break him. Yet he did not break. One day, on a scorching road where the stones burned under the sun, he was in prostration. At that moment, his enemies threw the rotting entrails of a camel upon him. The world seemed to pause. People gathered to watch what he would do. He did nothing. When the filth was removed, he simply bowed his head again. He made silence his shield. Then the city itself seemed to shrink during the days of boycott. Even the scent of food disappeared from the air. The cries of children echoed all around. The nights grew unbearably long, as if they would never end. His own daughters’ homes were broken apart because of his belief. Yet he continued to look toward the sky, as though an unseen promise was written there. Then came another city. At first, it seemed it would offer him refuge. But suddenly everything changed. People emerged from the alleys with stones in their hands. The stones did not just strike his body, they seemed to wound time itself. Blood flowed from him. The dust beneath his feet turned red. He stopped, raised his head, and it felt as though the sky itself had paused. He said, “O my Lord, I complain only to You of my weakness and helplessness. You are the Lord of the weak. If You are not displeased with me, then I have no fear. Your help alone is sufficient for me.” As these words spread into the air, a strange tranquility descended. It felt as though the sky had lowered itself to touch his forehead. He continued, “I seek refuge in the light of Your countenance, by which all darkness is dispelled. Until You are pleased, I seek only Your forgiveness.” These were not mere words. They were the story of a man who refused to collapse. On another battlefield, iron, dust, and blood merged into one. His teeth were broken. His face was covered in blood. Yet there was no anger in his eyes. He looked on in stillness. When his companions urged him to pray for the destruction of his enemies, he said, “They do not know.” That sentence lingered in the air, and it still echoes today. The trials of his life deepened even further. When he began to receive divine revelation, honor did not come immediately. He carried a message that challenged the religious beliefs, social hierarchies, and moral norms of his society. As a result, he was mocked, humiliated, and persecuted. He was called a poet, a madman, a liar, a fabricator. People ridiculed him openly. His followers were tortured, some beaten, some starved, some socially boycotted, and some killed. Such crises reveal the true character of a person. His life shows patience without passivity, endurance without collapse, firmness without harshness, and trust in God without denying pain. He wept. He buried his loved ones. He was wounded, slandered, and exhausted. Yet he remained steadfast. The light within him could not be extinguished by any darkness. There were days when no fire burned in his home, yet the fire within him never faded. When his mission was complete, he delivered his final sermon. He declared that no Arab has superiority over a non- Arab, nor a white over a black, except through piety and righteous action. He spoke of the mutual rights and responsibilities of men and women. He urged humane treatment of servants and dependents, feed them what you eat, clothe them as you clothe yourselves. His guidance, in essence, was to build a society founded on justice, equality, and human dignity. In the end, he departed. He left behind no wealth, no palace, nothing material. What he left was a clear path. A man who had nothing, yet filled the world. His message was ahead of its time and eternal. The lonely yearning of a young man on a mountain, seeking his Creator in the darkness of night, has become the daily compass for two billion people. The man of whom we have spoken is none other than our beloved Prophet Muhammad peace be upon him, the most beloved of the Lord of the worlds. Every sorrow, every wound, every tear of his life teaches us that hardship is not a curse. Rather, it is a hidden doorway leading us closer to the Creator. The wounds within the human heart are often where the subtle light of God enters. And so the old question returns, how many tears have you shed, that you may truly love? If you have never suffered, where will greatness come from? The life of the Prophet stands as a living answer, suffering does not break a person, it builds them. Let us learn from the life of Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him). Let us not avoid hardship, but embrace it. For perhaps within that hardship lies the path to our own greatness, and a call to draw us nearer to Allah. Barrister Omar Sadat Urban Rights Activist, Senior Advocate, Supreme Court of Bangladesh President, Gulshan Society