(Publish from Houston Texas USA)
(By: Muhammad Mansoor Mumtaz)
How memories of the past become a source of peace, healing, and emotional strength
“The memories of the past are pleasant… do not take away my memory.” Perhaps the verse was not recalled exactly as it was written, yet its meaning settled perfectly in my heart. Some words are not meant to be recited with precision; they are meant to be felt deeply. And in that moment, I felt the depth of it. Life, after all, is a journey filled with contrasts. At times, a person walks under the cool shade of happiness, where everything feels calm and meaningful. At other times, the harsh heat of trials exhausts the soul, making even simple moments feel heavy. This is the nature of life, and I too am no exception.
There are days when the heart feels burdened without any clear reason. Different situations, changing circumstances, and silent struggles shape our emotions in ways we often cannot explain. I am also just a human being—sometimes strong, sometimes fragile, sometimes lost in thoughts that refuse to settle. Yet, amid all this, my Lord has granted me a special blessing. Whenever my heart feels low or restless, He gently takes me back to the memories of the past, and somehow, those memories become a source of peace.
Something similar happened today. My heart was unusually heavy, and I had no motivation to go to the clinic. I wanted nothing more than to stay within the quiet comfort of my home, eat in peace, offer my prayers, and sit in silence. There are moments when solitude feels like the only refuge. After prayer, I casually picked up my phone, not expecting anything meaningful—just another routine scroll. But then, something unexpected happened.
A video appeared on my screen, shared by my childhood friend, Muhammad Asif Mughal. In that instant, time seemed to pause. It was not just a video; it was a doorway that led me straight into the memories of the past. The clip showed glimpses of my maternal village, Sankhtra, and suddenly, I felt as if I had left the present behind and stepped into another world—one that was deeply familiar and close to my heart.
The same village streets, the same earthy fragrance, and the same warmth that only a place filled with childhood memories can offer. These memories of the past were not just images; they were emotions, alive and breathing. They reminded me of a simpler time, when life was not complicated, and happiness came in small, meaningful moments.
Among those memories, one figure stood out clearly—Paa Majeeda. He was a simple man, yet extraordinary in his character. He was pious, generous, sincere, and full of warmth. His presence carried a sense of comfort that made everyone feel welcome. Whenever we visited our maternal home, going daily to his furnace became a cherished routine. It was never just about roasted grains; it was about connection, about belonging, about feeling at home.
With me during those days was my beloved uncle, Hafiz Muhammad Khalil. A حافظ of the Qur’an, a man of beautiful character, and someone whose smile had the power to win hearts instantly. Anyone who met him once could never forget him. His personality carried a rare purity that is difficult to find. His life was short, but the sorrow of his loss is long. Even today, when I revisit the memories of the past, his presence feels alive in my heart. May Allah elevate his ranks and grant him eternal peace. Ameen.
We would walk through the village streets together, carefree and full of life. Reaching the furnace felt like arriving at a place of joy. We would take freshly roasted chickpeas, rice, or wheat, and then head toward the fields near Government High School Sankhtra. There, we would sit for hours, talking, laughing, and sharing moments that felt endless. Time seemed to slow down in those days, as if it respected the beauty of those moments.
I often wished that time would stop right there, but time, whether good or bad, never waits. It moves forward, taking moments with it and turning them into memories. Strange as it may seem, the joy we found in those simple gatherings cannot be recreated today. Despite having thousands of videos, smartphones, and endless digital entertainment, something is missing. That genuine happiness, that presence, that connection—it exists only in the memories of the past.
Among those friends was Muhammad Asif Mughal, the same friend whose video brought all these memories rushing back. His simple act unknowingly opened doors in my heart that had remained closed for a long time. Those moments, those people, those places—all became part of my present once again. And in that return, something inside me changed.
The heaviness I had been carrying began to fade. The restlessness in my heart started to settle. Without even realizing it, a smile returned to my face. It was a quiet transformation, but a powerful one. That is when I realized something deeply meaningful: whenever I am surrounded by trials and turn toward my Lord with sincerity, He creates a way for me. Sometimes that way comes through a person, sometimes through a moment, and sometimes through the memories of the past.
These memories are not just recollections of what once was; they are a form of healing. They remind us of who we are, where we come from, and what truly matters. In my observation, many people become so lost in worrying about the future that they forget to live in the present. They chase what has not yet come, while ignoring what they already possess within their hearts.
But perhaps the peace we are searching for is not always ahead of us. Perhaps it already exists within us, hidden in the memories of the past. For me, these memories are not a source of regret. They do not bring pain or sorrow. Instead, they offer comfort, like a gentle shelter that protects me during difficult times. Whenever I revisit them, I do not feel lost—I feel grounded, connected, and at peace. Alhamdulillah.
No matter how much I thank my Lord, it will never be enough, because He has blessed me with something truly beautiful. My past is not a burden; it is a support system. It is a reminder that life, despite its challenges, is filled with moments worth holding onto.
So, my dear friend, whenever life feels heavy, whenever sorrow surrounds you, and whenever your heart feels restless, do not lose hope. Turn toward your Lord with sincerity. And then, gently hold onto a beautiful memory from your past. Bring it into your present. Relive it, even if just for a moment.
You will notice something remarkable. Your heart will begin to feel lighter. Your thoughts will calm down. And your soul will find a sense of balance that seemed lost. Without even realizing it, you will find yourself whispering, “The memories of the past are pleasant… do not take away my memory.”
And the painful thought—that memories are something to escape from—will disappear from your life. Because when memories are embraced with gratitude, they do not haunt us; they heal us. They guide us, comfort us, and become a gentle shelter in the ever-changing journey of life.
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