The Narratives – Mohamed Miah

I’ve been asking myself this question a lot lately, am I ready to come back?

Truthfully, I’m not sure. The loss of my brother Suto Bhai still weighs heavily on my heart. Grieving is strange like that—it doesn’t go away. It doesn’t soften; you simply learn to carry it. Especially when it’s someone like him—a giant. Giants don’t just pass away; they leave behind a legacy. A legacy of love, kindness, and endless memories.

Since his passing, life has felt different, like it’s missing a piece. I’ve slowly been getting back into work, but blogging has been a mountain I haven’t been ready to climb. My last blog was a tribute to Suto Bhai, and since then, nothing else felt right. Words seemed hollow, and the world carried on, yet I felt frozen in time.

There’s this moment when despair creeps in, and you think about giving up. You wonder if there’s even a point in continuing. But that’s where the beauty of Islam comes in—it reminds you. It grounds you.

We know the akhira is waiting. We know this life is a test. And we know that shaytan thrives on our despair. But when you force yourself to get up, to make wudu, to stand in prayer, something changes. In sujood, when the tears fall and your forehead is pressed to the ground, you feel this closeness to Allah. You pour your heart out, and it feels freeing. You tell Him everything He already knows because He’s the best of planners.

It’s in those moments I realise that while my brother is gone from this world, he’s not truly gone. He’s waiting, and I hold on to the hope that one day, insha’Allah, we’ll meet again. I make du’ah for that slice of Jannah, where we’ll lie down together again and talk like we used to. I make du’ah for his peace, for his legacy to live on, and for Allah to keep us steadfast until we meet again.

So, am I ready to come back? Maybe not fully. But I’m ready to take small steps, to continue praying, writing, and remembering. After all, this life is fleeting, but the memories of those we love and the hope of the Hereafter will carry us through.

Until then, I’ll keep moving forward, one sujood, one tear, and one prayer at a time.

Suto Bhai. You’ve left an imprint on us all, and we’ll continue to honour your memory in every step we take. May Allah grant you Jannah tul Firdaus, my brother. Aameen