The houses here were arranged in a linear pattern, and was quite organized, in conjoined blocks. It was also a quiet and tranquil environment that would evoke deep meditation in anyone who cared to do so.

This particular lady had finished her Isha prayers in a friend's home, and was now heading to her own in the East district, just across the river Kawthar, the first line of mansions.

As she passed through this tranquil neighbourhood, she paused as she stared at one particular mansion at the far end of the road, standing alone.

It was a two-storey building that was actually two separate apartments joined side-by-side together; and two different 'families' actually lived there.

Perhaps, a stranger to that community couldn't easily tell, but this woman could well do, since---this building was once her home, and she was the current landlady!

Lady Frieda looked at the modernized redbricked building where she and her family once lived. She had long since renovated it, and moved out. In order to overcome the nostalgia of the place which made her sentimental, she had to do so.
Now, the apartment was in two separate halves; in one, lived a foreign couple. They weren't always around, as they rented this place to be some form a vacation resort. Even though they were among the ahlûl kitâb, they weren't devoted, from what she knew about them, and were more worldly.

In the other half was Mother Ashyaa, an old lady she hired to take care of the house for her, to preserve the memories... and Ukashah.

She still could remember the homeless boy from about seven years ago. She had just lost her son, and soon after, came out of depression to take control of her life again.

Ukashah had a listless look upon his eyes as he held onto the reigns of his piebald black-white horse which equally looked exhausted to the point of death that time. Both boy and horse looked bedraggled and worn-out, as though they had travelled leagues.

However, even in that deplorable state, and even as he begged her to do some work and earn some wages, he was strangely dressed in a regal attire that seemed to have seen better days, and he had that refined look of a noble born on him.

She took pity on him at that time on account of her own missing son, and decided to keep him in the care of Mother Ashyaa.

The two got along well thereafter, especially after Mother Ashyaa learnt that the mother of Ukashah was also called Ashyaa.

Yet, Ukashah had revealed his true identity only to Lady Frieda, and that was only because of her kindness, and the solid trust he had come to hold for her.

The shocking truth had made Lady Frieda to undertake drastic measures to keep his identity hidden, moreover to keep Ukashah hidden...and safe.

She may not have changed his name, but she had erased his past and created for him a new identity...Ukashah of Tâ Hâ.

So, till now, only two knew of his actual identity. This was actually for Ukashah's own safety. By taking him under her wing, she had exposed herself to sheer danger, but the plight of losing her own son had strengthened her resolve. Maybe, Ar-Rahmân Ar-Rahîm would have mercy on her, and bring her own son back to her safely...

Even as Lady Frieda approached the building which had its lights brightly lit, indicating the presence of people who were still awake, she could hear it...

The serenity of the voice permeated the evening air. It gave such a tranquil effect on anyone who listened -- like your very soul had found a secret melody only it could understand.

The very nature of his recitation left everyone in awe, and took the hearts away, into a harmonious hymn of golden dreams and new lights of different worlds, to the point that no one could complain, even the neighbours who were quite protective of their peace and quiet – rather, they were used to it, and actually enjoyed it...like the melody of the night, to relieve all the day's stress, and put all hearts at ease. The leaves of trees nearby rustled, assisting in the glorification. Ukashah was reciting...

To Lady Frieda; Of the five, Ukashah's recitation reflected the verse,

Wa laqad darabnaa linnaasi fee haazal Qur-aani min kulli mathalil la'allahum yatazakkaroon

(And We have certainly presented for the people, in this Qur'an from every [kind of] example - that they might remember. Az Zumar:27)

This was because, his recitation seemed to open the heart of any listening, as if they were experiencing the lessons and examples vividly. It was like, with just his recitation, all the mathal(examples) would come alive! Sometimes one did think he were actually there, seeing it all...

She stood for a while at the gate entrance, to listen to the recitation that always shook her very soul, an ethereal recitation.

No doubt, it possessed undeniable tajweed - the laws governing Qur'an recitation. To every letter was its right and what was due it. The verses came, with their each and every letter emanating from the correct point of articulation, in perfect construction and conjugation, they flowed.

The qualities of the letters in his recitation were pure as they flowed eloquently with a calm smoothness.

The hymn and repetitions gave pleasantness to the ear, and then the heart as one listened...the person who recited, one could tell - he was already lost in deep contemplation of the Holy verses, seeking enlightenment. Sometimes, one might even taste the sweetness the reciter felt, just by listening attentively, then letting the heart go, guided by the voice itself...

Ukashah's voice used all his growing male vocal cords, and yet they were serene and pleasing, as if he were reciting from his very own soul into the entire world to listen...the silence which carried and conveyed his recitation seemed to tell - the world was listening, even more so - the Creator, and the very Owner of the words, of whom it is said, listens to the nice and pleasant voice of His Abd who recites.

Soft echoes, rising and falling of the pitch of his voice, like the sound of the dancing waves on a tranquil sea.

Qala bal sawwalat lakum anfusukum amran fasabrun jameelun AAasa Allahu an yatiyanee bihim jameeAAan innahu huwa alAAaleemu alhakeemu

Watawalla AAanhum waqala ya asafa AAala yoosufa waibyaddat AAaynahu mina alhuzni fahuwa katheemun.

Qaloo taAllahi taftao tathkuru yoosufa hatta takoona haradan aw takoona mina alhalikeena.

Qala innama ashkoo baththee wahuznee ila Allahi waaAAlamu mina Allahi ma la taAAlamoona.

([Jacob] said,"Rather, your souls have enticed you to something, so patience is most fitting. Perhaps Allah will bring them to me all together. Indeed it is He who is the Knowing, the Wise."

And he turned away from them and said, "Oh, my sorrow over Joseph," and his eyes became white from grief, for he was [of that] a suppressor.

They said,"By Allah, you will not cease remembering Joseph until you become fatally ill or become of those who perish."

He said,"I only complain of my suffering and my grief to Allah, and I know from Allah that which you do not know.)

"...innama ashkoo baththee wahuznee ila Allahi...(...I only complain of my suffering and my grief to Allah...)" Lady Frieda murmured. Her mind wandering, lost in contemplation...

Even as Lady Frieda listened, she got absorbed in his recitation and unknowingly to her, tears began to flow almost silently from her veiled eyes. It were as if she were lost in a tranquil sea, or another world that unraveled lost memories, shivers running down the spine of any who listened - whether they understood the meaning of the sacred verses or not. It was a recitation, simply beautiful and - heartmoving.

When Lady Frieda noticed the tears, she got shocked as she seded her consciousness from the realm of contemplation - one that was a sea of life's turbulence, one everyone sails upon, some get drown, and others will attain salvation, yet again others will travel it in different ways...

Wiping the tears, she murmured," Could it possibly be my recollection of my own past memories due to the melancholy carried within or... because I know of his tragic past and that his constant recitation is like his safe haven of comfort, and only succour to escape the myriad tribulations of the world?!"

Standing at the entrance, she took an apple from her basket-laden with fruits and vegetables, and with a warm smile, she gently walked in.

Ukashah was reciting from the verses of Surah Yusuf, the story of Prophet Yusuf, may Allah's peace and blessings be upon him. A story that contained profundity and struggle against the trials of life by a young Prophet of Allah. Betrayed by his own brothers, cast into a well, separated from his beloved father, and sold as a slave...

He was falsely accused of indecency, though he was the purest one could find. Finally thrown into a prison, -right from a very young age, Yusuf(A.S.) had undergone the very harsh vicissitudes of life itself - one, that could cause anyone to break, the first of which was emotionally and psychologically disturbing for a young child - being betrayed by the very people you would only rely on and find safety in as a younger brother.

Yet, in the end Allah gave him triumph and honoured him with a high position in the world of ancient Egypt, and united him with his beloved father, and family...

This particular Surah talked about patient endurance, and perseverance... It talked about trust in Allah through the calamities of life - facing whatever fate may throw against you and silently persevering, never giving up... for just as the grieved Prophet of Allah, Ya'qûb said in his profound sorrow"...Indeed, no one despairs of relief from Allah except the disbelieving people."(Qur'an 12:87)

Ukashah loved this Surah, because his late mother used to love listening to him recite it.

She herself had taught him, right from a very young age, the alphabet of the language of the Qur'an. She had given him the little pocket Qur'an he was currently reciting from, saying " so you can read it everytime for me to listen. Little Sahâbi...even if I'm not there oneday, remember Allah, our Rabb would always be with you, listening; so don't ever think you're alone, and reciting only to yourself!" she would then cuddle at him suddenly to his pleasant surprise whilst bestowing him with many comforting kisses, amidst his ringing laughter. She was so much warm with her youngest son.

She would then hug her little prince very tightly, lovingly, her gold and silver trinkets jingling. The regally dressed fair lady, in all her adornments and cascading red hair, looked otherworldly, perhaps some might even take her to be a hûr-ul-ayn. To Ukashah, his mother was like a breath of fresh air, happiness radiating, in personification.

Tears flowed from Ukashah's eyes even as he remembered all this, his recitation slowly coming into a humming tune, and gradually fading into the serenity of the night with its breeze.

Previously, as he was reciting, he was in deep contemplation of the story of the Prophet Yusuf(A.S.), but the similarity with his own life, and the fact that it was his late mother's favorite Surah in the Holy Qur'an, made him suddenly think of the past."Little Sahâbi..." he murmured.

That was how his beloved mother used to call him lovingly. This was because his parents named him after one of the companions of the Prophet, Ukashah bin Wahsan, a man who would enter Jannah without reckoning, the man who wielded the white sword of mu'jizah in Badr, Al Awun.

Even as he pondered this, he heard greetings down below on the ground floor, after the clicking sound of a door closing. Apart from Mother Ashyaa's voice, another feminine voice could be heard. Even though Lady Frieda would visit them occasionally, it wasn't too much of her habit. He got to see her more in school than at home, as Lady Principal than as a visitor to the South district. She seemed to have her own reasons why she avoided frequenting the South district, though she once lived here.