Leilah Usman awaits an acceptance from a university abroad so she can leave the country she never loved when she stumbles upon an ancient diary. Through the eyes of Mahrosh Irfan, she finds herself in a world so completely different from hers.
One w...
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It is raining outside. Leilah tries to think of it as a coincidence. Her hands subconsciously tighten around her cardigan as she picks up the KFC delivery from the door. Her mother is resting in her room; she spent the entire night in the hospital with Leilah's grandmother and returned only an hour ago.
The grand clock in the living room reads six forty-five when Leilah brings the food inside, returning to her room. Her bedroom is a mess; the sheets are unmade, she still hasn't put her laundry in her wardrobe, and the books on the study table are scattered.
She climbs into her bed, taking the food out. She has not yet touched it when her gaze falls on her open laptop screen.
Prayer timing, Lahore.
Leilah's fists tighten. She does not know why she has this page open; not when she cannot recall the last time she actually prayed. It is as if she enjoys torturing herself; staring at the screen at every prayer time, feeling the guilt and the restlessness that eats her alive, before looking away —
I don't even have a prayer mat in my room. What am I thinking?
But she knows what she is thinking; she is thinking about Mahrosh and her description of salah. She is thinking about Walid sitting on his prayer-mat and crying to His Lord — and a small little corner of heart is thinking; is that not my Lord as well?
Leilah stares at the burger in front of her, her appetite suddenly lost. The house is incredibly silent when she walks out of her room again. Above the LCD in the living room, there is a sliding bookshelf that she never bothered paying attention to before, and the only time she remembers seeing it open was when her mother was setting the house after they had just shifted. She pushes the footstool towards the cupboard and steps over it, peering at the contents of the shelf.
There are a few books, photo albums and certificate files in there. At the very end, a green cover catches her eye. Leilah pulls out the english copy of the Quran. It is covered with a thick layer of dust and she rubs it off with the edge of her sleeve. The hem of her gray cardigan's sleeve turns black with soot.
For a brief second, as she sits on the footstool, Leilah hesitates. It is the same hesitation that caught her heart when she found Mahrosh' journal. And then, the same courage that pushed her to open the journal pushes her to open the Quran.
She opens it on a random page, her gaze falling on the first ayah at the top of the page.
"Has the time not yet come for those who believe that their hearts should be humble for the remembrance of Allah and for the truth that has descended —" [57:16]
Leilah's heart leaps inside her chest. For seconds on end, she stares at the verse and then, as if a thorn has been pulled out of her heart, the emotions walled up within her heart explode.
The truth that has descended... her YouTube history lists several videos; the miracles of the Quran, convert stories, people coming to the haqq — there is a diary on her side table that has pulled at the strings of her heart and forced her to think of her Creator.
And now, she feels suddenly as if Allah is talking to her.
Has the time not come for you, Leilah, to humble your heart in His remembrance?
The tears roll down her cheeks till her glasses get cloudy and her vision blurs. And the tears are the rain that fall down to the desert of her heart; a heart that was once barren and dead. A heart thirsty for the remembrance of its Creator — dead and lifeless, till the first of those tears drop. And a seed of imaan that was unknown to her sprouts.
"Know that Allah revives the earth after its death. We have certainly made the signs clear for you so perhaps you will understand." [57:17]
Does Allah not revive the earth after its death? A voice is saying to her, What makes you think He cannot revive your heart?
Leilah's grip tightens on the Quran. She glances at the clock, quickly rising to her feet.
There is still time.
She rushes back to her room, and the hopelessness that gripped her before slowly vanishes. Her eyes glaze again as she does wudu.
I have been a sinner, Ya Allah. I never thought of You even after all that You had blessed me with. My head lowered in shame and guilt; but... You are Al-Ghafoor. You love the sinner who repents and returns to You. My soul is restless Ya Allah. I think it is looking for You. You revive the earth after its death... revive my heart too.
I came from You.
And then I forgot You.
But now that You have sent a boat of guidance my way.
Let me return to You.
I do not want my death to be the only time I do.
Oops! Ang larawang ito ay hindi sumusunod sa aming mga alituntunin sa nilalaman. Upang magpatuloy sa pag-publish, subukan itong alisin o mag-upload ng bago.
Oops! Ang larawang ito ay hindi sumusunod sa aming mga alituntunin sa nilalaman. Upang magpatuloy sa pag-publish, subukan itong alisin o mag-upload ng bago.
assalamualaikum!
i try to update on a weekly basis and yet, whenever i publish a chapter i feel like it has been forever and I begin to miss you guys a lil too much ^^
on that note, the best ten days of the year are beginning soon and I may not be able to publish during this time – so let us meet again after eid Insha'Allah!
