AN ATTENTIVE PARENT We can look at this Surah and story as comprising 'scenes', so what we are looking at now is Scene One, a very personal, private conversation between father and son. In fact, the son is the one initiating the conversation, and it’s happening behind closed doors – separately, I intend to read and compare this with the Bible's version of the story to help you contrast the Quran’s account with what was known and circulated before the Quran came. [See the series here:

] The story begins like this with no prior description of Yusuf or his father, just straight into his name and this conversation about the dream. In the Quran, the only other mentions of Yusuf are in al-Anʿam (6:84) and al-Mu’min (40:34), both of which are understood to have been revealed later. So it’s as though this is the first time the Prophet ﷺ himself is hearing about Yusuf (as), and we already described the context of sadness at this moment in his own life and mission. What's remarkable is that soon after this would be the Journey of the Ascension, the Miʿraj in which our Prophet ﷺ met with all the prophets, Yusuf (as) among them, after this introduction through his full story; just imagine what that meeting must have been like! Now, what we’re brought to witness here isn’t a father talking to his son, as we have in Luqman (31:13) or indeed the bequest of Ya’qub to his children in al-Baqarah (2:133). Typically, you find the parent initiating the conversation, trying to guide the child in some way. But here you find the reverse. You find the child approaching the father and speaking to him, which is a very powerful starting point and lesson. Here we are learning a profound teaching of the Quran about the kind of relationship that should exist between parents and children, and more specifically between a father and his children, whether sons or daughters. The lesson is: a child should be able to feel comfortable talking about anything with their dad, anything! And they can just approach them, or their mom for that matter, about anything that’s going on with them, without the fear that the parent will be upset or dismissive or evasive. It’s crucial for a parent to be an attentive listener, and we as parents know how often we fall short in this. When our kids are younger, they LOVE talking. I recall one time my son Imad was really into describing video games and he's talking about this character and the upgrades you can get and the end or whatever… OMG! It was so complicated, and I'm staring, I'm really trying to pay attention and I told him 'Imad, I'm really trying to pay attention but I have no idea what you're saying' – and he said 'I know but I'm going to keep going,' and I said 'Okay.' He wants to talk to his dad; he wants to express and express and express. So, there can be moments where our children really want to communicate with us, but the problem is when we are on our phone or we're driving or we're doing something else and we're kind of hearing but not really LISTENING to what they're saying – well, they pick up on that. There's an age in which our children are in desperate need of our attention and they're not just saying what they're saying, but there's something behind it, something else going on. A lot of times kids don't tell you how they feel because they feel like they're not going to be heard, but kids should also know they have the right to be heard and they should make the attempt to speak to your parents. And parents on the other hand are being given this guidance: what kind of dad is Ya’qub (as) that he doesn't even have to tell his son out loud, 'If something bothers you, you can always come and talk to me'? It’s crucial to nurture this early on, because there comes a time – typically around the age of 10 or 12 – when kids would much rather be talking to their friends, and you’ll be fighting for their attention. How do we become someone our kids can relate to? You shouldn't just know that they play video games, you should know what video game and you know what, you should play with them… more important than buying them stuff is spending time with them, and giving them experiences –moments that become like pillars in a child's life. Don’t wait until they’re a full-blown teenager and drag them to a Shaykh to recite something on them to 'fix' them! This Ayah is teaching us that we have to create an environment so safe and beautiful that our kids reach out and communicate with us. And when they do communicate with us, there's something that needs to happen after that. And let’s pay attention to the manner in which Yusuf (as) spoke to his father: يَا أَبَتِ is an expression of both love and respect, the letter tā’ at the end has this added effect. Those are two separate things, love and respect. Sometimes you love your dad or your mom but you're mocking them or talking back to them, not showing them the proper respect. On the other hand, sometimes you show respect because the father is like a general who walks in and all the soldiers are like STAND UP! The kind of parent the kids are scared of because they don't know what's going to make him explode in anger. So, you can command respect, but where’s the love? Is this relationship supposed to be so formal and distant that you can't even be yourself with both your parents? As the poet (actually country singer) said: 'He's gonna hug his mama, he's gonna shake my hand'! A DISTURBING DREAM So Yusuf (as) comes and speaks with love and respect, and he describes a strange dream. He’s seen eleven stars, so this must be night time – but then he says he saw the sun, and the moon. Now, the order is a little odd 'eleven stars and the moon' could fit together, and later, the sun (daytime). Maybe we are to picture this as an astronomical event, outside the earth with its night and day. But for me, what’s happening with this description is that Yusuf (as) is expressing that he's disturbed by what he saw, and he knows that though he’s seen what look like the stars, sun and moon, they aren’t actually those bodies in the conventional way. They represent something else. By the way, the way he has eleven brothers so it's not rocket science for him to figure out that this might be referring to his family. Eleven stars, eleven brothers, then he's got the sun and the moon which could be mom and dad. I wondered a lot about this dream and why this particular symbolism was used. It could have been anything, like eleven flowers and two trees, but of all things Allah in His wisdom decided to show his siblings and stars and his parents as sun and moon. What occurs to me as an explanation, and Allah knows best, is that stars for the night sky are a source of beauty, and also a source of guidance and comfort because stars are a means by which people navigate (16:16). It's kind of like our relationship with siblings: we may not depend on them, but there may be times in our life where we need some guidance from a sibling. Even if one of you moved to Karachi and the other one lives in Australia or whatever and you've got your own lives, but if there's a moment of need you're going to be there for each other. But the sun and the moon play a daily role in our lives, and they’re fundamental to our survival. Notice that the Ayah doesn’t tell us which one is the mother and which the father, though some have offered their opinions on that. Just notice how the earth revolves around the sun, but the moon revolves around the earth – this is a bit like the two dimensions of the parental relationship. At a certain age, we’re turning, running to them. And there comes a time when parents start becoming more dependent on us, and turning more and more towards us. Even then, we are the beneficiaries. The moon isn't benefiting from the earth, it’s the other way round. And both the sun and moon are fundamental to our religious lives too, as one marks the times of prayer and the other marks the months of our sacred calendar. So, this brings into perspective how significant parents are. This moment was impactful enough that Allah chose to reveal an Ayah about it in His final Book to be recited to all of humanity by His final Messenger ﷺ. A conversation that a boy had with his dad about a dream that he saw. That isn't what 'history' looks like. But this is history coming from the heavens. What that teaches you and me is that no conversation we have with our children is insignificant, and we should know that the One in the highest heavens is watching that conversation just like He was listening to theirs. And notice too, that when kids speak, it's important to Allah – because here's a kid speaking and Allah listened and He put those words in the Quran. So, paying attention to children and what they're saying is important. Being good listeners to our children is important because Allah made it important. THE SIGNIFICANCE OF PROSTRATION From the language of the Ayah, we understand that Yusuf (as) found it difficult to express what he had just seen, and was trying to make sure to tell his father about it respectfully, knowing that it implied something that he found difficult to understand – his own significance, and how everyone would, one day, be humble in front of him. We have an emphatic particle withإِنِّي like 'I actually did see this, Dad.' In the Bible’s version, it seems the father got offended! 'What is this dream you had? Will your mother and I and your brothers actually come and bow down to the ground before you?' (Gen 37:10). But here in the Quran, Yusuf (as) first makes sure his father knows he has his love and respect. And this shows us how we need to be ready to have difficult conversations with close family. The repetition of رَأَيْتُهُمْ after the first of occurrence of 'I saw' can be explained in purely grammatical terms, that is, because the sentence is long and this helps make it clearer and more flowing. But for me, there’s an emotional effect conveyed as well. It’s as if Yusuf (as) stopped after mentioning the sun and the moon, and there’s a pause before he says 'I watched them bow down before me!' Some have also explained it by saying: the first رأيت simply describes his seeing those heavenly bodies, and the second one is to describe what he saw them doing. There’s something to note also about the pronouns here: رَأَيْتُهُمْ means 'I saw them', but it’s the kind of 'them' that’s used for people, not inanimate objects. The same issue applies to ساجدين describing them in prostration: the plural used is the one for sentient beings, for people. So, as he's speaking, he's already interpreted the dream, he understands that these are people. (Exegetes also say that the word forms are like this because the bodies were behaving like people, because prostration is a human act.) We can also find the shock this boy was feeling, when he brings forward the particle لي – prostrating for me, of all people! It’s as though he’s saying: 'What is so special about me, that they should be doing that on my account? I'm bothered by this dream, and I decided to tell this to you, but I don't mean any disrespect.' What's remarkable is that later on in this story there's a king with a dream, and you can't compare the social role of a king to that of a child in a village. This is the son of a shepherd. It’s different worlds. The King says this dream is bothering me, can somebody tell me what it means? His people get paid to give him advice, and they occupy high positions to be his advisors and counselors. But the response they give him is أَضغاثُ أَحلامٍ (12:44) – we’ll explain that later, but it’s as if they’re saying 'You probably had too much spicy food last night, we can't interpret that. I mean you're our King but some things are too ridiculous.' But a father is much more in a position to say 'Son, it was just a nightmare, it's okay, here, drink some chocolate milk.' The dad's not doing that, but he’s actually listening attentively, and we’re going to see how he responds. He has two things to tell his son in response to this dream, and we're going to pay attention to each one of them to understand some of the dynamics of the relationship between Ya’qub (as) and Yusuf (as).

posts are based on Bayyinah's lecture series. Link to corresponding video: