A Sense Of Loss

It was only when I read the most recent issue of The Muslim Reader, a magazine published by Darul Arqam, an association for Muslim converts of which I am a member, that I learnt of the death of Shaykh Zakaria. I had the great good fortune to attend a number of his classes a few years ago on Tawhid, which might loosely translate as Theology. He's the only teacher I've ever known who would begin lessons sometimes by laughing - not at anything in particular as far as one could tell - just the sheer joy or absurdity of it all. Such laughter could last for up to five minutes a time without a single word being said. He was also prone to telling extraordinarily elaborate stories which would seem to be leading nowhere and then conclude with startlingly obvious lessons - almost cliches - which seemed mysteriously to have just come to life and been rendered unforgettable. One such epic tale concerned a late night he spent in a mosque, the point of which turned out to be that only God is worth being frightened of. I've never forgotten that, and in moments of cowardice try and place it in the centre of my thoughts.

He was a lovely man, his warmth and tolerance palpable, and our world will be a sadder place without him. But I suspect heaven will be all the richer.