Echoes Of The Heart

chapter#2

The alarm was loud as usual but this time it was not the one to wake me up... I had not slept the night. I sat up on my very soft mattress and tied my hair in a ponytail. I got dressed up for work and made myself some breakfast. I sat on my little table in the center of the big open kitchen of my apartment. I drank my juice quickly as I was getting late. I reached my office the big building with shiny red tiles on it. I got out of my car and ran for my office. I had some new people to interview today as we were looking for my new assistant. I sat on my large black chair and waited for the first person to come in. I interviewed 12 people. The 13th one was a Muslim as his name was Umar. I kept him as my assistant.

I did not have much work to do today so I decided to go out for lunch with some of my friends.

As I sat on the table with my friends I got lost into thoughts, I could not get the radiant face of that man out of my head. The thing that kept me wondering was that how can somebody smile at the time of his death. I have heard and read that at the time when the soul is separated from the body the pain that is felt is unimaginable.

As I was lost in my thoughts one of my friends, Sarah shook me. I realized where I was seating.

"What are you lost into?" Sarah asked me.

"I saw a man yesterday, in the middle of the sea, his face was radiant with glow and he had a contentment that is beyond description." I answered, imaging his face.

"Hahahahahha..." They all began to laugh.

"So you fell in love with someone in the middle of the sea. Now how romantic is that!" Karon said making a pose.

I knew they won't understand what I was saying and I don't blame them for this I would have done the same if I were at their place. I had lunch but didn't feel like going back to work, I went back home.

The Arabic words that the man had said were still there in my head. I took out my laptop and typed the words on google for translation.

It said "There is no God but Allah and Muhammad (saw) is the messenger of Allah."

I knew that Muslims believed in one God Allah and the prophet but the thing that kept me wondering was that this man found these words so important as to be said at the time of death even. I was taken aback by the way he was smiling while saying these words. What was it that made him smile in the extreme pain of death?

I sat there for a long while I don't know why but I felt my heart heavy and something in my stomach. I felt like that man knew something I had not even given a thought my entire life. I wanted to ask him... What was it that he felt?

I decided to talk to my assistant. Maybe he would be able to give me some answers. I called him.

"Can you meet me near my house? At the Brazilian cafe?" I asked him after some questions about the work I had left for him to complete.

"Ohk! I'll be there in about half an hour". He said hesitating a little.

I knew it was weird to ask him to come near my house and meet me but I knew that I would not be able to sleep otherwise.

I met him at the cafe about an hour later.

"I wanted to ask you something about your religion." I said studying his expressions.

I knew he would think that I would ask him the usual nonsense people here usually questioned Muslims about.

"What is it?" He asked in a low voice.

"How important is the Arabic sentence "LA ILAHA ILLALLAHU MUHAMMAD UR RASOOL ALLAH" to you?" I questioned.

"It is that makes us different to people of other faiths. It is the one thing due to which we are declared as Muslims. If the faith in this one sentence is pure and is from the depth of the heart then it makes you a good Muslim." He replied thinking before saying every word.

"Why would a person recite it while dyeing?" I asked what I wanted to know the most.

"It is a declaration of the fact that this one think matter's the most to the man. And that he believed in it till the time of his death. And after he has done that he will be sent to the heaven directly." He answered. There was something in his voice, like shame. I didn't know what he was ashamed of.

I asked him about a Muslim scholar he might know but he said he had known idea. That left me thinking that he was not much practicing as he even did not have a beard like the man I had seen before. I said my goodbyes to him and left.

I sat on my bed thinking that there was something that I had to know, something that I should have known my entire life ,but was not told, something that is important than everything in this world, something as important that the man remembered even at the time of death. I had to find it out.