Mastoorah
Mustafa (S. A. W. W) Jan e Rehmat pe lakhon Salam
Shamaa e Bazme Hidayat pe Lakhon Salam
Jis Suhani Ghari Chamka Taiba K Chand
Jis Suhani Ghari Chamka Taiba K Chand
Us dil afroz Sa'at pe Lakhon Salam
Mustafa (S. A. W. W) Jan e Rehmat pe lakhon Salam
Shamaa e Bazme Hidayat pe Lakhon Salam
(TRANSLATION)
A Hundred Thousand Blessings Of Peace Be Upon Mustafa (P.B.U.H), The Epitome Of Mercy
A Hundred Thousand Blessings Of Peace Be Upon Mustafa (P.B.U.H) , The Candle Of The Gathering Of Guidance
Millions of peace be upon the beautiful moment and the heart-enlightening time in which the Moon of Taibah shone
A Hundred Thousand Blessings Of Peace Be Upon Mustafa (P.B.U.H), The Epitome Of Mercy
A Hundred Thousand Blessings Of Peace Be Upon Mustafa (P.B.U.H), The Candle Of the Gathering Of Guidance
I was letting out the blessed verses as my eyes were closed, feeling its sacred effect on myself. I found many people mumbling Subhan Allah and Masha Allah around me. The heavenly scent of red roses was entering my nostrils giving me an amazing feel.
"Masha Allah, Mastoorah. You have such a beautiful voice. May Allah always let you say HIS and HIS Beloved (P.B.U.H)'s praise," a woman said, gently patting my scarf-laden head.
"Thank you," I smiled.
As I was done with the Milad, my Uncle came to pick me up. I am ten years old right now and I live in the USA with my Aunt. She had two children who were younger than me.
Aunt Hania had adopted me when I was just born. She said my mother died after giving birth to me. She had sacrificed her own life by helping me to have mine. My Aunt found me crying me in the water and even though she just said that she had first seen me in a hospital where my mother was fighting with death by getting shot by someone, I knew that wasn't true. I didn't know I faintly remembered that time. I wasn't even a second old but I had a picture of it in my eyes.
The blue sea. The scorching sunlight. The red blood. My closed eyes but throbbing pulse and beating heart. My functioning ears listen to every sound. Why did I have a memory of this? No kid remembered anything at this age?
Maybe it was some of my nostalgic feeling. A deja vu perhaps. I had seen a dream and then started linking it to reality. That was what Aunt Hania explained when I once told this to her.
However, I always discovered myself having a unique bond with my mother. I didn't know why I remembered an illusion of the face of a woman. A gorgeous woman having tears in her eyes but looking at me with a smile and open arms.
That was perhaps the reason why I feared water. Its mere sight gave me goosebumps. The blue color, the sound of moving layers. It gave me stress and panic.
Apart from water which scared me, there was someone who I hated. The person who made my mother die in agony. The person who shot her in the heart and made me live a motherless life like this.
Aunt Hania had once asserted I had a beautiful voice and I should recite Naat and Hamd. I first started at home and then it had been two years since I started going to ladies' religious gatherings for this purpose. It gave me a solace and a relief.
"Oh Mastoorah, my child. You are back," Aunt Hania chortled in happiness seeing and.
"AssalamoAlaikum," I greeted her.
Aunt kissed my cheek. "Walaikum Assalam, my adorable Mastoorah."
She loved me so much. She was treated to equally to her own kids; one son and a daughter.
I was studying at A levels in a local school. But more than academics, I had an interest in literature, history, and religious books. I was already on Para twelve on my recitation.
As I reached my room, the call to prayer of Maghrib sounded. I delicately unwrapped my scarf and placed a dupatta loosely over my head. I reached over to the washroom to perform ablution.
Rolling over my sleeves, I started doing the wudhu diligently. As I came back, I draped a big shawl around myself and performed my salah.
"Oh Allah give peace to my heart. Let me become someone very obedient to you. Let me love YOUR Prophet (P.B.U.H). Let the love of YOU and YOUR Beloved (P.B.U.H) be far superior in my heart than anyone. Let me see my mother in the dream. Let me meet her and hug her. Ameen."
I spread my palms over my face and then stood up, folding the prayer mat. My hands reached over to the green-colored small green pendant resting on my throat. It was a simple golden chain that I had been wearing since I remembered. Aunt Hania gave it to me when I was four years old, saying she had found it near my mother. It must have belonged to her hence I considered it very dear to me. I never took the necklace off me ever. It gave me a feeling of having my mother around me.
And I loved that feeling.
________________
AssalamoAlaikum/ Hi guys!
A new part of Miracle is here.
I hope you like Mastoorah.
How do you think she will see Faraan, her father?
Do you think she will hate him more after finding the truth?
How will she meet Ajwa, Faris, and their family?
Who do you think is Hania?
To know all these, don't forget to read the next parts.
If you like this chapter, don't forget to vote and comment. ❤
Till the next one, Allah Hafiz/ Bye. ❤❤
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