Chapter 11: A glance at the past.

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'Mom was telling me of your love story, dadda.' Rasha shyly replied.

Suhaib glared at Rumaisa, half blushing and drew out a stool for himself. He brought some Veg-porridge and some breads for dinner, which they had merrily.

Soon, it was Ten past five, and Rasha had school the following day, so they bid Rumi goodbye and left the hospital.

On their way back home, Rasha enquired Suhaib about all of his Hajj and Umrahs.








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I could feel my head spinning yet I
took hold of my consciousness. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks, never in my life did I cry to this extent. I have seen people facing worse situation than me, but Ya Allah I feel so weak. I dont understand what just happened and why did I approve of it. A few days back everything was completely different and now that I look at myself, I wonder why did I agree to it when I know of my feelings for her.

But that's how life is supposed to be. No matter how deeply you crave for someone, or how many battles you fight for someone, what's meant to be will be. If fate wants you to lose, you'll eventually lose. Its another part of the story, that sometimes fate itself might change its route, impressed by your struggle, love and determination to achieve something. Either ways everything end up the way it should. And a decade later when we rewind our memories, it will all make perfect sense. Every tiny moments of our life will be recalled for its own significance.

I sat on my legs in the clean white tiles of the ground floor, my toe-fingers bent dorsally touching the cool floor. The atmosphere surrounding me would have captured anyone passing by, if it had not been for this place, for here, no man looks at his surrounding or the people around him, for they can only see the amount of sins they've been committing all these years, the number of people they have wronged and above all Allah's endless, boundless mercies on him.

I raised my hands to my Rabb, the purest and the most warmest breeze passed by me, making a few strands of my hair flip, as if conveying Salaam in its own way.

I wonder how blessed is this breeze to have the privilege of swaying itself in The greatest Masjid of the world, The Haram.

The pillars of Haram stood tall all around brightened by the lights that hung on the ceilings inside. They looked strong and seemed to be made up of the finest materials required.

Ya Rabb! If only I would have been strong on my faith as this pillar is. This pillar is but, made by men after all, But I, I am Ashraqul Maqlooqath! I have been made and designed by Allah SWT himself, the creator of the creations. The one who alone is perfect. Ya Rabb! I wonder why my faith is so weak! I am ashamed of myself Ya Rahman! I fear the day I'll stand before you! I am heavily burdened by my sins. I ask you for forgiveness.

The crowd in Makkah have always been an unending one. People come, people leave, and the cycle continues. The streets of Makkah never remain deserted. Because it is where Baitullah is.

People around him were either offering their Nafl prayers, reciting the Quraan or busy with their dhikr. A little away from him were lines of fabricated creamish filters containing the ZamZam in it. A few people were drinking water, while some were pouring the water on the scalp of their head, spraying over their faces and so on.

Suhaib raised his hands to make dua, to talk to the only hearer of the world, who despite of all his sins forgave him and showered his mercy on him.

'Allahummaj'al fi qalbi nuran, wa fi lisani nuran, wa fi sam'i nuran, wa fi basari nuran, wa min fawqi nuran, wa min tahti nuran, wa 'an yamini nuran, wa 'an shimali nuran, wa min "amami nuran, wa min khalfi nuran, waj'al fi nafsi nuran, wa "a'zim li nuran, wa 'azzim li nuran, wa fal li nuran, waj'alni nuran, Allahumma "atini nuran, waj'al fi 'asabi nuran, wa min lahmi nuran, wafi dami nuran, wa fi sha'ri nuran, wa fi bashari nuran. [Allahummaj'al li nuran, fi qabri nuran, fi 'izami] [wa zidni nuran, wa zidni nuran, wa zidni nura ][wa hab li nuran ala nur.]

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