In the Name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful

‘Peace and Blessings of Allah be upon our beloved Prophet and Master Muhammad (s.a.s), all his blessed descendents and noble companions.’

                                                                                       -Aameen.

Dedicated to Elie ‘cause I love her for Ar Rahman’s sake :*

Chapter Thirty-Six

Learning to Love Allah and Muhammad SAW… (Part 2)

“Wa maa arsalnaaka illaa Rahmatal Lil ‘Alameen

(And We have not sent you, [O Muhammad Sallallaahu ‘alaihi wa sallam], except as a mercy to the ‘Alameen [mankind, jinns and all that exists])”

Warning: This chapter contains a little bit more romance or to say in our slang, some extra mushy cheesy stuff ahead. Those wonderful people who read this story with their parents or families…ahem – If found unfavourable, please skip those offending lines or paras and instead concentrate on the educating, beneficial things ;P

London, U.K.

The tall, distinguished looking man with iron tinted chestnut hair strode across the hall before being halted politely by the receptionist asking whether he had an appointment.

Dark, calculating eyes swept the woman before the man spoke curtly, “I presume you’re new. Inform Dr. Rowland that Draco Montex is here.”

“It’s alright sir,” spoke another female voice and Draco saw Miss. Leela, Rowland’s secretary coming towards him with an apologetic smile.

“Please have a seat,” she said, after ushering him into a private waiting room. “The current session will end in another ten minutes Mr. Montex. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Ten minutes!” Draco snapped, but nodded resignedly in answer to the question of drinks after sitting down upon a leather couch. He sipped the wine mechanically while hot rage simmered inside him.

He could still see the message clearly before his eyes – Mr. Montex, your son has married…!

And the news had reached him only after two f***ing days and even that not through his son!       

“Draco.” Wilson extended his hand and looked unsurprised, the grey eyes betraying nothing as they rested upon the older man’s face while they shook hands.

“You knew that Alex has married?” Draco plunged without ceremony, the dark eyes glittering dangerously.

Wilson jerked his head in acknowledgement.

“You didn’t inform me!”

Wilson quirked a brow at the accusation. “What is this we’re speaking Draco? I never inform, it’s you who always call and inquire about Alex. I got the invite, are you saying that you didn’t?”

Draco compressed his lips into a thin line.

“I came to know only today.” He looked around the large, svelte room as if he would like to break something or everything very much. Wilson watched him, the grey eyes cool and impersonal.

“Who…who is she?” The dark searching gaze met the cool ones. “The last time when we talked he said that he doubted that she would accept him, does this mean she did?”

“I guess so.” Wilson indicated the couch before sitting down on the opposite sofa.

But Draco continued standing, his brow furrowing ominously.

“It looks like you won’t say anything,” Draco finally said, looking down at Wilson. “I have already given orders to find out everything about her and her family.”     

A flicker of something passed through the grey eyes. “Do you think Alex would like that?”

The older man curled his lips into a sneer. “I have a right to know whom he has married, haven’t I?”

Wilson shrugged. “You won’t like what you’ll come to know.”

“I suspected as much from your reticence. I no longer think that she may be some Indian princess, rather the opposite. Do you at least remember her name?”

“Oh don’t I?” Wilson laughed –a harsh abrupt sound. Hadn’t he spent his free time staring at the invite, cursing her for what she had done to his friend.

“It is Humaira… Humaira Muskaan.” Wilson revealed, with a twinge of malicious satisfaction as he watched the changes in Draco’s face.

For a moment, the standing man gazed at him without comprehending the slight import in Wilson’s voice. Yet when the meaning dawned upon him, the mask from the dark eyes dropped as the face contorted in fury.

“Do you dare implying to me Wilson that she…she is a Muslim?” Draco hissed, his tone indicating that he would love to wring Dr. Rowland’s neck.

Wilson twisted his lips wryly. “I warned that you won’t like the truth.”

The dark eyes glinted savagely. “This cannot be! I refuse to believe it. A Montex and a…a…”

Words spluttered from his mouth and denied to form the hated word again.

Turning abruptly, the older man stalked the room much like an unleashed beast striving to hold back.

Several minutes later he paused and said in a pseudo-calm voice,

“He… Alex has not been himself ever since that godda** friend of his got killed – the past year has not been good for him. It’s not a surprise that he did what he did, yes – I understand now, he met her I think during the break he took, am I right Wilson?”

A stiff nod was the only answer.

“It was all the stress…no doubt he became distracted and I guess he wanted her badly –”

“Your son is in love with her.” Wilson said quietly, not showing the sense of betrayal and his own fury that he felt whenever he thought of her.

“Love!” Draco spat and curved his lips mockingly. “We Montexs’ don’t succumb to such stupid emotions. I know Alex, a block of ice feels more than him! What he wanted he had always had, obviously this fiasco of marriage is like that. Mark my words, he’ll become weary of her soon. A marriage is just that – a marriage, easily dissolved.” He snapped his fingers to emphasize his point with a thin smile.

For the first time ever since he had last talked to Alex, spoke to his da** brother in law called Habib and received the wedding invite, Wilson felt the anger dying slowly when he heard the words of Draco.

He didn’t deny that he had been severe and perhaps even cruel to his best friend, yet at least he was not thinking despicably like Draco. Not two days had passed since Alex’s marriage and his father was already speaking about ending it. And yes he was still furious with him and more angry with that woman who had been the main cause of everything, but that does not mean he wished worse or evil for either Alex or her.

“I think Draco,” Wilson spoke with the hint of a sneer touching his lips. “You’re not getting the significant point here, your son Alex is no longer Alex, he’s Ahmed Montex now. He converted before he married her.”

Dropping the explosive words, the popular psychiatrist of London leaned back calmly in his seat and watched the drama unfold.

***

Chennai, India.

“Caw caw caaw caaarrrrrr….”

The man trying to concentrate on the text slammed the book shut and glared at the offender.

Seated upon the narrow windowsill was a large, sleek black bird that cocked an intelligent beady eye at the glaring blue eyes.

“What?” He snarled irritatedly.

“Caw.” The answer came quite cheerfully.

“Lord!”

Ahmed looked around the pleasant tidy room with the idea of grabbing something and chucking at the cheeky bird.

“Caaww?”

The raspy question was put to an end when a flying pen almost hit its beak. It flew away hastily, but not before pouring a string of loud indignant cawing upon the beastly man.

Ahmed grinned, and then stretched lazily.

He looked at the closed book and the dozen others that were beside it. Saif had chosen them all asking Ahmed to gain Islamic knowledge, saying that they were just for ‘light reading.’ Ahmed didn’t want to know how the serious reading would be, yet he could not deny that what he had learnt until now was amazingly informative and awfully interesting even for a man who rarely pursued books.

It was nearing ten in the morning and some two hours since he saw his bride. She had pointed at the heap of unopened gifts, and left him after laughingly declaring as “All yours!”

Recalling it, Ahmed smiled as he stood up, and then searched for his shirt… not finding it, he pulled open the closet, saw his clothes neatly arranged and hanging in perfect order. Picking out a shirt, he discarded the hanger, and scowled as it hit the floor with a clattering noise, then without sparing it a glance left the room leisurely.

The house was peacefully still except for the noises that came from the large open windows. Umar had gone to school today after a weeklong bout of enjoyment and freedom. Abdullah had left after Misbah while Saif dropped Saira at her home with the in-laws where the Dulha and dulhan were invited for lunch today with the rest of the family. For the wedded couple, this was their first invite from their relatives; the other invites would start streaming soon, without doubt.   

There was no sign of Humaira upstairs and upon going down, Ahmed found Kadhija in the garden bargaining softly yet firmly with a grinning vociferous woman, who was obviously some kind of a vendor. Tracing back his footsteps, Ahmed now went to the terrace and found Humaira hanging wet laundry on the clothesline and securing them with little colourful pegs.

She saw him and smiled, while he wondered at the growing heat this early in the morning.

“Hot.” He announced, feeling his fresh shirt already sticking to his back.

Humaira wryly chuckled in agreement, then said with a worried frown,

“You should have remained down in the AC, why did you come up?”

“I meant you.” He remarked tongue-in-cheek, the intense blue eyes watching her reaction.

His wife snorted.

“Very funny.”

He laughed but she had already moved ahead, her focus back on the task she was doing. Ahmed followed behind and looking around at everything lit brightly by the glaring sunlight commented dryly,

“You guys have too many crows here. They make awful noise and mess; the government should consider banning them.”

Humaira suppressed a giggle and having gotten the reaction that he had intended Ahmed placed his palms on her shoulders and turned her towards him.

“I’m serious.” He said solemnly and watched the laughter bubbling in her deep eyes.

Humaira shook her head in amusement.

“There was one down in our room’s window. Making a godda** racket, and spoiling my concentration.” Ahmed remembered with satisfaction his nearly perfect aim of the pen that he had thrown at the shrieking bird.

“Oh no –” Humaira cried in dismay at his statement. “What’s the time?”

Ahmed frowned. “I think it’s just after ten. What’s wrong?”

“You said a crow came and made a racket at our window?”

He nodded, his gaze turning curious.

“Ya Allah I forgot him today, how could I? He comes daily to eat…”

“You mean that crow –” Ahmed began in disgust.

Humaira grinned. “He’s not just a crow, he’s the Raven Prince.”

Ahmed forced himself not to roll his eyes. Instead, he pulled her close to his heart and said amusedly looking down at her,

“I never imagined my wife would be familiar with so much royalty. There’s Snow Queen, and now the Raven Prince…”

“There’s one more – Simba.” Humaira supplied helpfully, unable to repress her dimple.

“The Lion King?” Her husband looked surprised for a moment.

“He’s Snow Queen’s son actually…”

Ahmed groaned while she giggled.  

“You’ll have something to drink?” Humaira asked after some minutes while they were descending downstairs.

“Mhm.” Ahmed nodded. “But with sugar if you please –”

Humaira flushed in embarrassment. “I knew you won’t let me forget that incident as long as I live!” She mourned and sighed resignedly.

It was after Zuhur Salah and the men had just come back from the Masjid. Saif, after discussing something with his parents left to Saira’s home on his bike while Abdullah went to remove the car from its shed and Kadhija saw to the securing and locking of the house.

Upstairs, Ahmed entered their room and found Humaira complete in abaya and Niqaab, hurriedly pulling on her dark gloves.

Even before she could become aware of his entrance, he surprised Humaira by taking her in his arms and crushing her to him.

“Assalamu Alaikum.” She murmured with a pleased smile. When he raised her Niqaab, Ahmed saw the enquiry in the shining depths that changed to something else as he began to kiss her.

It was several minutes later that he chuckled as she dolefully eyed her crushed and loosened Hijab.

“Yesterday I couldn’t as you came directly to the car both the times…but so many times at the cruise, I had wanted to do this very much.”

She raised questioning brows at his statement, and he clarified it by further saying,

“To remove your Niqaab, to look at your face and to kiss you –”

Humaira blushed yet tapped her fingers slightly upon his forehead saying with a caressing look,

“Bad thoughts…” She dimpled. “Seek refuge in Allah!”

He laughed in uproarious delight. “Even now? Aren’t you my wife?”

She shook her head, admitting defeat. “No. Not now, now you’ll have reward.”*

Ahmed sat with Humaira in the back, while Abdullah drove the car with Kadhija beside him. Upon reaching, Saif met them at the door with his familiar teasing smile, with Misbah and his father close behind.

The house was actually an apartment with two rooms and a hall, kitchen etc, so after the greetings and warm welcome being over, the men sat to eat in the hall where a dastarkhaan was already spread while the women ate together in a room.   

Even though Raashida was Saira’s mother in law, she was also the girls’ aunt first –so it was no surprise that there was barely any formality between them all as they shared a delicious lunch while chatting cozily. Everything related to the Valima  – the various guests, the lunch, the gifts, the back-breaking work after everything, the exhaustion, the immense mercy of Allah SWT, their deep gratitude to Him for smoothing everything…then about Habib, Heena etc. all matters were duly and thoroughly discussed.  

After lunch, the men including Misbah and his father who had taken permission from their respective office works’ for the afternoon, sat leisurely conversing…the topic obviously revolving around the wedding or the couple. A Mashwara was done regarding Ahmed’s proceeding in forty days of Tableegh Jamaath, and the day was finally fixed as the next weekend. In between, the two friends teased and inquired Ahmed about the honeymoon.

“Where did Humair say that she wanted to go?” Saif asked, with his usual smile.

Ahmed remembered her words when he had asked her. She had replied immediately with shining eyes as if she was being asked about her most cherished wish. “Bait Allah!” Humaira had breathed. “Masjid al Haram, Masjid al Nabawi and oh – Madina Munawara!”

When Ahmed repeated her words to her brothers, they stared for a few seconds before hooting in laughter.

“Going to ‘Umra for honeymoon?” Saif wiped his eyes. “Oh Humair you’re such a delight to the heart!”

“Actually,” Ahmed remarked, smiling. “I merely asked her where she wished to visit in this world; I didn’t consult her about the honeymoon…”

“But you’re both going someplace right?” Saif asked, looking into the warm blue eyes.

Ahmed nodded slightly. “Where?” Misbah queried curiously.

When Ahmed answered, both the friends smiled. “Sounds cool Ma shaa Allah!” Saif voiced his opinion, the black eyes dancing mischievously.

Thus, the time passed quickly and soon it was ‘Asr, Saif had already gone and picked up Umar from his school, bringing him back here. It was after Maghrib that they all started to depart for home, Raashida performing like a wiz in the kitchen preparing their dinner too, while the other women helped her in between her protestations. Saira and her husband remained back with their parents and the others when they finally reached home heard the canorous chant of Adhaan for Isha Salah echoing in the night’s still air.

Much later, after Isha and dinner Ahmed sat talking with Saif and Abdullah in the large hall of downstairs. Kadhija finally put Umar to bed after Humaira had helped him long with his overloaded homework of a week. Tired and grumpy, the boy complained that school was no fun. Then the thought crossed his mind that it had been great today to be back with his group of best friends, so he grudgingly admitted to his sister that school was cool too but only,

“A little.”

Humaira chuckled while Kadhija softly admonished him to stop chattering and start reciting the bedtime Du’as.

After the little guy had dropped asleep, both the mother and daughter joined the men in the hall. Humaira went and sat close to Ahmed who was frowning as he spoke to Abdullah, the severity of his face almost marked.

“I’m very much a novice, yet what bits I have learnt about our Prophet (SAW) impresses me greatly, to the extent that I’m already somewhat in awe of such a personality as his – and you’re aware of the news? These…these caricatures of his person’s drawings disturbs me. The media –I already distrust, it looks like I would begin to dislike them too… I have watched and read most of the news reports, what the two gunmen did – an attack on Free speech was this?”

“Free speech!” Saif scoffed with some asperity. “Oh shaitaan plays well with them and us. The killing of innocents is always heinous, inexcusable and an act of unquantifiable evil.” He stared ahead for some moments before continuing, “…But Ahmed, to quote the NS’s blogger Hasan who remarked recently,  ‘was the attack really a “bid to assassinate” free speech, to “desecrate” our ideas of “free thought”?  It was a crime – not an act of war – perpetrated by disaffected young men; radicalized not by drawings of the Prophet in Europe in 2006 or 2011, as it turns out, but by images of US torture in Iraq in 2004.’  

“Remember the editor in chief of WikiLeaks? What he was doing was more close to it…” Saif observed. “The information that he revealed to the world, showing the deception, revealing what’s really happening behind the scenes, all that was freedom of expression too right? Everybody has a right to know the truth yes? Yet what has happened to him soon after that? Publicly prosecuted with charges of sexual assault that he denies and of course he has been under investigation ever since, and sought refuge with the Ecuador. And ever since all that two years ago, hasn’t he been confined and living at the Embassy of Ecuador in your London?”         

Ahmed nodded slightly, the frown becoming more pronounced.

“Besides, let us not even go into what happened to similar others,” Saif sighed. “See – that’s what occurs to the truthful free speech in this pathetic world of today. It is hushed, suppressed, closed, finis! While that which is otherwise is propagated widely by the shaitaan for the obvious reasons…” 

“All this cartoon caricature very much reminds one of the other French political newspaper back in the end of nineteenth century when our India was still fighting for her freedom,” Abdullah began after a deep pause during which Saif had lapsed into silence, the women speaking quietly among themselves and Ahmed still frowning. “It was called the La Libre Parole illustrée, (The Free Word). I was not even born then,” Abdullah smiled and the others instantly chuckled or grinned. “That paper too published satirical cartoons degrading Jews in the name of free speech and propagated anti-capitalism and was chiefly responsible for the Parisian anti-Semitism. The mocking cartoons that are being published and circulated widely these days have such a similar theory. Islamophobia –all the hatred and fear against the Muslims has increased multifold as planned no doubt… what shaitaan is doing, looks like he’s certainly succeeding –”

“As you said Abba, all that provocation of anti-Semitism was during the end of nineteenth century,” Saif pointed out. “Now in the 21st century nobody dares that… and I read that people don’t seem to remember that Charlie Hebdo, the same magazine which expects us to laugh at the cartoons of the Prophet sacked a veteran French cartoonist for making an allegedly anti-Semitic remark! What happened to Free speech or sense of humour then? Where did it disappear? Do you know Ahmed that Jyllands-Posten, the Danish newspaper that published caricatures of the Prophet, reportedly rejected cartoons mocking Christ because they would ‘provoke an outcry’ and proudly declared it would ‘in no circumstance . . . publish Holocaust cartoons’? No doubt, feelings of all others have to be considered except of course Muslims… ‘cause they, they don’t matter –”

Saif dragged a hand through his hair while the others remained hushed and had the distinct feeling that the unnatural brightness of his eyes were sudden unshed tears. In an unconscious gesture, Ahmed took Humaira’s hand and pressed it comfortingly. Kadhija’s eyes filled quickly with tears while she with the others watched Saif who blinked rapidly before he spoke again, the deep tone now husky with suppressed emotion,

“The life, honour, property of a Muslim has become way too cheap now – everyday so many innocents killed, others wrongly accused and convicted without trials, while the remaining unjustly suspected everywhere – who cares or questions? Or if we do, who listens?”

His gaze rested upon his father who was looking at him with kind sapient eyes. “In a way,” Saif said quietly as if speaking to himself, as if he had forgotten that there were others listening to him. “It’s we…we who are to be blamed … A  Mu’min fears none except Allah SWT, would rather die than disobeying the commands of Nabi SAW –to those Allah SWT granted superiority over the others! But that was once upon a time ago, today we Muslims fear each and everything and don’t even care about fearing Allah SWT!  As if that’s not enough, we crave and worship wealth and status… while disobeying Allah SWT and Nabi SAW has become second nature huh? Amidst all this we don’t think of repenting or changing our ways yet have the nerve to expect the help of Allah SWT to come!”

“Yes,” Abdullah nodded, agreeing grimly. “It’s being proven everywhere, we don’t do what He wants and instead expect Him to do what we want… if this is not stupidity, then what is?”

Saif folded his arms across his chest and looked at Ahmed, who had remained quiet all this while,

“I’ll tell you something what our Prophet SAW said,” He began slowly with pensive thoughtfulness. “It was recorded by Imam Ahmed that Ibn ‘Umar r.a. narrated that Allah’s Messenger SAW said,

"I have been sent before the Hour so that Allah alone should be worshipped without any partner for Him, and my provision has been placed beneath the shade of my spear, and subservience and humiliation have been placed upon those who disobey my orders, and whoever imitates a people then he is one of them."      

Saif closed his eyes, and then opening them looked around at his family as he spoke in a pained tone,

“That’s what many of us are doing, disobeying so many orders and commands of our Prophet SAW. Following others and disregarding his SAW’s Sunnats –thinking them as uncool and old-fashioned! So as Nabi SAW said, those whom we imitate and follow –we become one of them, more like their slaves…then indeed subservience and humiliation descends upon us. That is what is happening to us today…”  

Thus, these few souls in this family gathering worried profoundly about the state of Muslim Ummah and the talk continued and gradually turned back to their earlier conversation,

“And Habib beta said the other day that there have equally been many voices raised, protesting against the cartoons, saying I’m not Charlie!” Abdullah remarked, his kind face looking worn and tired.

“True,” Humaira agreed, finally joining the discussion. “Just in France Abba, it is revealed that four out of ten people have protested against those publications and similarly around the world… But those people who write or draw so-called caricatures of the Prophet, and do their best to provoke us… wa ith zayyana lahumush shaitaanu ‘Aamaalahum… (And (remember) when Shaitan (Satan) made their (evil) deeds seem fair to them…).” Humaira paused reciting the Ayah before proceeding softly,

“Don’t they know that what they say is nothing but utter fabrication…? ’cause each and every moment and incident of our beloved Nabi SAW has been recorded and preserved. Most certainly these cartoonists are not Imam Bukhari or Imam Tirmidhi or the other esteemed most notable scholars who diligently collected and recorded our Prophet SAW’s life and words,” She smiled, a gentle loving smile and her family couldn’t help but smile at her serene words.

“It would anger us only when we take their supposed… free speech seriously, because we know our Muhammed SAW never looked like that or said all that! Those who draw such cartoons indeed reveal their ignorance and ignobility, for it is well known that those who were blessed to meet, interact and live with our beloved Nabi SAW became awe-inspired and described his incredible personality as,

"I have seen none like Muhammed (Sallallahu alaihe wasallam) neither before nor after him!”

For the first time in the past twenty minutes, Saif smiled and Ahmed noted that Abdullah was listening intently to his daughter and looking at her with fond pride. He turned his gaze to her face, and saw the subtle glow reflecting in it and sure enough, his heart too caught the light and he found himself smiling with melting love.

“And we all know don’t we,” Humaira was saying with shining eyes, looking at her smiling mother. “…how utterly beautiful his SAW’s manners were with regarding everything. He abided by all the laws and commands of the Noble Qur’an and abstained from its prohibitions, and observed the virtuous deeds mentioned in it so much so that his beloved wife ‘Ayesha r.a described our Prophet SAW’s beautiful manners as,  – "His manners were the Qur’an."

“Don’t you take all the rewards,” Saif interrupted his sister with a sudden quizzical grin, his dark eyes equally teasing her. “Let me say beautiful things about our Rasulullah SAW too!”

Humaira grinned in response and deliberately opened her mouth to continue, while Saif cleared his throat before beginning loudly. Humaira shook her head and caught Ahmed’s eye who smiled at her while she dimpled before turning her gaze back upon her brother who was saying in a wistful tone, his voice now deepened with the passionate yearning, reverence and love of Nabi SAW reverberating in it from his heart –

“When Sayyidina Hasan r.a, (Rasulullah SAW’s grandson) was asked about our Nabi SAW, he said,

“Doors are not locked under him, nor do door keepers stand for him, and trays of food are not served to him in the morning or the evening. He sits on the ground and eats his food from the ground. He wears coarse (rough) clothes and rides on a donkey with others sitting behind him, and he licks his fingers after taking food.” 

In another narration of Imam Bukhari,” Saif paused, twinkling at his sister who had mentioned earlier that those cartoonists were not the revered scholars to be believed or taken seriously.

“Ayesha r.a said,

The Prophet (S.A.W) used to pray during the night until his feet would swell. She said, ‘Why do you do this, O Messenger of Allah, while Allah SWT has forgiven your past and future sins?’ The Prophet (S.A.W) replied: "Shall I not be a grateful slave (of Allah)?" 

Yet in another narration, Kharijah bin Zaid (r.a) said:

“The Prophet (S.A.W) was the most honored among the people with whom he sat. His limbs could hardly be seen. He was often silent and rarely talked when speech was not a necessity. He turned away from those whose speech was rude or impolite. His laughter was no more than a smile. His speech, which was decisive, it was neither excessive nor incomplete. Out of reverence and esteem and following the example of their Prophet (Peace and blessings of Allah be upon him), the Companions’ laughter at his presence — was smiling, as well.”

The instant Saif paused again, all the five in the gathering could feel the heart soothing, soul enveloping peace surrounding them from all sides. Indeed the Sakeenah of Ar Rahman was ever within reach of every individual…

“Subhan Allah!” Abdullah murmured, and urged his son to say some more.

“No, now let me share the reward too,” Kadhija spoke with a tender smile, looking at her husband who smiled back and nodded. Saif grinned at his mother and repeated his father’s gesture.

“This Hadith describes the amazing beauty of our Nabi SAW…” Kadhija began, in the soft mellifluous tone very much similar to Humaira’s voice. “It is related from Jaabir (Radiallahu anhu) that he said:

“I once saw Rasulullah (Sallallahu alaihe wasallam) on the night of a full moon. On that night, he wore red clothing. At times, I looked at the full moon and at times at Rasulullah (Sallallahu alaihe wasallam). Ultimately I came to the conclusion that Rasulullah (Sallallahu alaihe wasallam) was more handsome, beautiful and more radiant than the full moon."

Ahmed raised his brows in surprise. About the Prophet Muhammad SAW’s excellent character and manners, he was somewhat aware of, but this was the first time he was hearing that the Prophet SAW was drop dead gorgeous too!

“I think it’s my turn now, I’ll say some verses and a Hadith,” Abdullah declared, his smiling gaze resting upon his wife. “Allah SWT describes our Nabi SAW in the Qur’an e Majeed as,

“Wa innaka la ‘alaa khuluqin ‘Atheem”

 (And verily, you (O Muhammad) are on an exalted standard of character.” [68:4])

And in another place, Allah SWT beautifully says,

“Laqad kaana lakum fee Rasoolillaahi uswatun hasanatul limann kaana yarjul Laaha wal yawmal aakhira wa zakaral Laahu katheera

(Indeed in the Messenger of Allah (Muhammad [SAW]) you have an excellent example to follow for him who hopes for (the Meeting with) Allah and the Last Day, and remembers Allah much. [33:21])”.

“Shall I say an ayah too Abba?” Saif pleaded, even though well aware that his plea won’t be rejected. He recited in succinct yet melodious tone,

“Qul a tee ‘olLaaha warRasoola fa in tawallaw fa innal Laaha laa yuhibbul kafireen

 (Say (O Muhammad SAW to mankind): ‘Obey Allah and the Messenger (Muhammad [S.A.W]).’ But if they turn away, then Allah does not like the disbelievers. [3:31])”

“And there’s one more,

“Man yuti ‘irRasoola faqad a taa ‘Allaaha wa man tawallaa fa maa arsalnaaka ‘alaihim hafeethaa

(He who obeys the Messenger (Muhammad [S.A.W]) has indeed obeyed Allah, but he who turns away, then we have not sent you (Muhammad [S.A.W]) as a watcher over them. [4:80])”

After Saif had mentioned the meaning, Abdullah continued,

“And regarding the Hadith, of course you would all be aware of it as it’s very famous for describing Nabi SAW’s incomparable beauty, still we can listen once more…Imam Tirmidhi recorded,” Abdullah’s gaze slid to his daughter who beamed. “that Sayyidatina 'Aisha (Radiallahu anha) once said,

“The women in Egypt cut their hands upon seeing Prophet Yusuf (Alayhis Salaam), but had they seen Rasulullah (Sallallahu alaihe wasallam) they would have cut out their hearts.”

Ahmed appeared clueless, and even though knowing the Hadith well, Saif was once again genuinely flabbergasted at such mind-blowing beauty as he uttered in awe shaking his head, “Ma shaa Allah laa quwwata illaa bil Laah!” while both the mother and daughter were looking at each other and grinning widely. If Saira had been with them, she would have properly drooled and swooned.

Then Abdullah, after briefly explaining to Ahmed the story of Prophet Yusuf A.S. announced that it was time they all went to bed. This long talk and discussion of today was considered as Ta’leem, so they all dispersed after seeking Kaffaara.

Half an hour later, Humaira had just finished her nightly recitation of various Surahs which ranged from Surah Mulk to Surah Sajdah to Surah Dukhan etc –

Ahmed had left the room some fifteen minutes ago, and there was yet no sign of his reappearance. After waiting for another ten minutes, Humaira suppressing a yawn went in search of her husband.

The hall as she came outside was dimly lit and quiet quiet betraying no sign of anyone else. Humaira descended the metal stairs and reached the small hall of downstairs. The door of her parents’ room was closed and there appeared no light from beneath it, and she knew that they won’t switch on even a lamp for fear of awakening Umar.

The kitchen was cool, clean and…empty. Humaira wondered why she had thought that Ahmed had perhaps become hungry and come down in search of something to tuck in. With a shake of her head, she left it and went into the large hall, which too like the one upstairs was dimly lit.       

There was no sign of Ahmed still, and Humaira paused before Saif’s room after spying a faint glimmer of light seeping from beneath the door.

She softly knocked, and after some moments when there was still no response, she turned the handle and stepped inside, her lips already parting to announce her entrance.

But the words were never uttered as Humaira found her brother’s room subduedly lighted from a shaded lamp. She saw him after a few seconds, with his back towards her and facing the Qibla, he seemed to be in the blessed position of Sujood upon a Musallah.

Yet what made her silently leave, closing the door behind her were the suppressed heart wrenching sobs of a man, who had forgotten the world and was conversing, pleading and beseeching with His Lord. Humaira knew in her heart that Saif Bhaiya was praying for them all – for their protection, for their forgiveness, for the Ummah’s Hidaayah.

She found Ahmed in the terrace room, seated upon a chair with his legs stretched upon the desk before him and completely engrossed in the book that he was reading. As he was yet unaware of her arrival, Humaira took the opportunity to watch him affectionately for some stilled moments, the quickened beat of her pulses slowing down gradually.

She noted that the chestnut hair was growing back again, and the face was relaxed, almost gentle –not severe or stern like she had glimpsed him sometimes. The familiar ache of intense love began to throb in her heart as she realized that his beard was indeed growing longer…so his sacrifices to please Allah SWT had begun – She entered then and he looked up, his face breaking into a smile.

“Planning to spend the whole night here?” Humaira asked returning his smile and lingering by the door.

“Ah I thought you’ll never come!” He answered, beckoning her to come towards him.

“What were you reading?” She looked curiously at the book as she neared him.

Ahmed closed the book and showed her the cover. Humaira’s smile grew as she read the title – The Noble Life of the Prophet (Peace be upon him).

“Listening to you all talk so enthusiastically and passionately about our Prophet SAW, I realized how lamentably low I’m in knowledge…” Ahmed said, absently swatting a mosquito that had sat on his bare arm.      

“Do you know Muskaan that besides the medical related books and journals, I have not read any other books for the past…I guess eight years.” Ahmed grinned looking at her shocked expression. He lowered his legs from the table and swatted another mosquito stating wryly, “And you people have too many mosquitoes –”

Humaira interposed saying blandly, “Indeed the government banned them, but they still remain and are very much guilty of transgressions…”  

Ahmed laughed and putting an arm around her waist, pulled her onto his lap.

Instead of protesting, his bride sighed contently burying her face into his chest. “The chair will break.” She predicted serenely after some moments.

“Such a concerned wife, worrying about the chair and not whether her husband would sustain any injury…”

“You’re a doctor.” She replied happily in answer.

“So?” His tone was laced with amusement as he saw the brown eyes twinkling merrily.

“Doctors treat and cure, they don’t get hurt.”

“My poor deluded girl…” He murmured, his lips trailing her cheek with feathery kisses. Humaira chuckled, then shivered as he nibbled at her ear.

So with the most beautiful cloak of His Love and Mercy draped over them – it was the same centuries-old journey of a spirit reaching out to another, heart pouring into heart, a soul merging with its mate, and a woman finding the man who was hers and to whom she belonged since the creation of Time.

*****

[She shook her head, admitting defeat. “No. Not now, now you’ll have reward.”*]

*Abu Dharr r.a reported: Some people among the
companions of the Prophet SAW came to the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him, and they said,

“O Messenger of Allah, the rich have taken all the rewards. They pray as we pray, they fast as we fast, and they give charity from their extra wealth.”

 The Prophet SAW said, “Has not Allah made for you ways to give charity?

In every glorification of Allah is charity – (Subhan Allah), in every declaration of His greatness is charity – (Allahu Akbar), in every praise of Him is charity – (Alhamdulillah), in every declaration of His oneness is charity – (Laa ilaaha il Allah), enjoining good is charity and forbidding evil is charity, and in a man’s intimate relations with his wife is charity.”

They said, “O Messenger of Allah, is there a reward for one who satisfies his passions?”

The Prophet SAW said, “You see that if he were to devote himself to the forbidden it would be sin. Likewise, if he were to devote himself to the lawful he will have a reward.”

Source: Sahih Muslim 1006.

A/N ;)

Alhamdulillahi Rabbil ‘Alameen :) enjoyed? Loved? Yes? No? whatever it is, I’m immensely grateful for your attention and sweet support,

Jazak Allahu Khairan Katheeran Katheera!

To @theknowledgeaddict – You see I simply can’t whisk them away to Haram Shareef, if I had done that now as their honeymoon trip, Saif would have died laughing. On a serious note, I did include Humaira’s passionate desire of wanting to visit all those most blessed places. Maybe someday soon In shaa Allah it will be fulfilled. And if you are still there Di, please do include IYL and all of us in your beautiful Du’as In shaa Allah…

Wassalam.

With special Duas,

abdurRahman (Gudi :)