Islamic Short Stories

#Short story 4

Hashem slumped through the doorway, the weight of another fruitless job search heavy on his shoulders. He tossed his bag onto the worn sofa, the sound echoing in the cramped room. Four single beds crammed the tiny space, Hashem sharing it with three roommates. All three were already asleep, their slumber a stark contrast to the turmoil in his stomach. How could he face his father? Sixteen lakhs of taka, his father's life savings, poured into his education, yet he remained unemployed. Each day, the burden of their meager household expenses pressed heavier. With a sigh, he pushed himself up, needing to freshen up.

A sliver of light peeked from under a pile of books on the shared study table. Muiz, always mindful of conserving electricity, must have forgotten to switch it off. Hashem reached for the light switch, then paused. Muiz often left his diary open, filled with Qur'anic verses and thoughtful tafseer for them to ponder. Curiosity piqued, Hashem picked it up. Today's entry resonated deeply: "And We have made for you therein means of living and for those for whom you are not providers" (Surah Al-Hijr, verse 20). The weight on his shoulders seemed to ease. How could he have forgotten? Allah (SWT) is Ar-Razzaq, the All-Provider. A gentle smile touched his lips as he closed the diary and switched off the light.

A few days later, the phone rang, interrupting his morning routine. "Mr. Hashem," a voice boomed, "based on your excellent results and interview, we'd like to offer you the position of assistant professor." A wave of relief washed over him. "Alhamdulillah," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you, sir," he managed. "Don't thank me," the voice chuckled, "it's your impressive qualifications." Hashem smiled, shaking his head. "No, sir," he said, his voice firm. "It's because my Lord has favored me."

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