Disclaimer*: The articles shared under ‘Your Voice’ section are sent to us by contributors and we neither confirm nor deny the authenticity of any facts stated below. Parhlo PInk will not be liable for any false, inaccurate, inappropriate or incomplete information presented on the website. Read our disclaimer.
“Why aren’t you asleep? She asked him lowering down her gaze as she felt scared of him from inside.
“It’s none of your concern, I am waiting for my prayers. Why are you following me?” he said having rage in his eyes.
“I am your wife and I have all the right to know what is disturbing you.” She, once again, raised the question as his previous answer did not satisfy her, “It’s no time for prayer now. There are still hours left until dawn and prayers.”
“Are you deaf? Didn’t you hear what I just said? It’s not your concern. Will you get the fuck away from here?” He scolded her and raised his hands to beat her but then, on seeing her departing away, he let it down.
After she left, he kept moving to and fro on the grass pavement and was lost in his thoughts that he was unable to hear the call for prayers and missed them. The sun came up and he went inside. He saw the eyes of his family questioning why he was awake the entire night last night but they were all too frightened to bring the question to their mouths. He gobbled up some eggs, drank the tea and without looking at anyone, he went inside the washroom, took a bath, wore his usual shalwar kameez and left the house.
He kicked started his old, partially rusted bike. The tires had many patches that appeared from punctures and raced it to a masjid. He parked the bike and made his way into the Masjid via the main gate.
“Assalamoalikum, Qari Sahib,” said a boy who just appeared to have entered in his puberty.
“Walikumaslam,” said Qari Ismail Niazi having to force a smile while he did it.
“You looked disturbed? Everything all right?”
Without answering the question, Ismail left the premises and entered in a hall where youngsters were busy reciting Quran while the oldies, calling themselves teachers, were busy teaching. At times, one amongst the many students diverted his attention to elsewhere and a hard smack on his face, re-diverts the focus. Sometimes, when an apprentice was seen reciting incorrectly, he was hit hard on his hand with a stick. Ismail saw that his regular students were reciting while his place was empty. He took off his slippers at the gate and hurried to take his place. Although he was seated to listen to what his students were reciting, the thought from last night followed him back and he got so involved in thinking that his face started to depict his lost state of mind.
“Where are you? What are you up to?” said one of the bearded men, who called himself Qari Malik, while nudging Ismail.
“I think I need to meet Maulana Sahib”, said Ismail and he raced off. He paced in the masjid’s passage in a desperate attempt to meet with Maulana Ali Haider Sahab. He knocked on his door and after a surge signaling him, he entered the room. Ali Haider Sahab’s room had a small bulb hanging down from the ceiling. Three of the four walls had shelves that had Islamic books on them.
There was a small table which had a glass of water, a prayer mat and a tasbeeh (sacred beads) lying on it. There was a bed foam and on it, seated a man in his forties. His face was so bright, it appeared to have been emitting light, the center of his forehead has a mahraab (a prayer mark) and all was placed properly with the black shining beard on his face. He dressed himself up in sparkling white shalwar kameez and covered his head with a greyish white cap. His personality suited his name.
“I am distressed Maulana Sahib”, said Ismail in an alarmed voice.
“I can read your face. What happened, my child?” said Ali Haider in a desperate attempt to calm Ismail.
“I had a dream, which I can’t swallow,” cried Ismail as a tear dropped down from his eyes.
“What do you see?”
“I saw myself in a mirror and my reflection kept saying to me that I am rotten.”
“Yes! Rotten,” his hands trembled while he struck those words “I saw that my reflection had a rotten body and a rotten face. I saw that there were bugs eating me like I am a fruit that is rotting. I, in the mirror, just struck the words ‘I am rotten because of what I did. I am rotten’.”
“What have you done, Ismail? This dream is really horrifying and if you saw what you have described, I would ask you that you should ask immediate repentance from Allah. Allah will forgive you. After all, He is most the merciful.”
“I have missed my Fajr prayers because I was so deeply lost in the dream.”
“I think you should ask sincere mercy from Allah. I have known you for a very long time and I am certain that you wouldn’t do something that heinous, deliberately. Maybe it’s something you’ve done by mistake so I would ask you that you should ask for Allah’s mercy and I will also pray for you.”
Ismail then left the room with a slight smile on his face. He heard the noon prayer call and immediately made his way to perform ablution. After performing ablution, while he was making his way towards the prayer area, he saw a mirror and as soon as he looked through the mirror, his dream face came in front of his eyes, his ears echoed with “I am rotten. I am rotten for what I did,” and he fell fainting on the ground.
When Ismail woke up he found himself on a bed at this quarter. He saw his wife, Sakina, and his children all around him. They all had many questions to ask him but his fear in them had kept their voices paralyzed.
“What happened? What is the worry?” asked Sakina with a fear in her voice.
“I told you before, it’s not your concern,” scolded Ismail.
“I am your wife! For Allah’s sake please tell me what is that which keep you awake and tensed?”
“I saw you woke up from sleep last night. Tell me, so that I can soothe you. It’s my duty, religiously and spiritually to be beside you.”
“Shut Up! Who has given you the right to talk back to me? Will you all just leave me alone?”
Without uttering another word, Sakina, followed by their children, left the area. Ismail kept on lying on the bed and kept on thinking about the dream he saw last night and the remedy told to him by Maulana Ali Haider Sahib. His thoughts deepened and once again he missed his prayer.
Days passed by. Neither Ismail could sleep nor could he pray. The thoughts of the night gave him goosebumps whenever he went to sleep. All he could see was himself in the mirror uttering to him “I am rotten! Rotten because I have done felonies that rot me. Rot me until I have no more in me to get rot.”
Then one night, Ismail decided that he needs to pay Ali Haider Sahib another visit. He rode his bike, reached the masjid, paced towards his room, knock the door and as soon as he heard a positive response, he entered the room.
“What happened, son?” inquired Ali Haider sounding worried.
“Same! I can’t sleep, I can’t pray, I can’t eat! I cannot concentrate on anything. My dream fills my head.”
“Did you ask sincere Allah’s repentance?”
“I tried to pray but as soon as I do ablution and lay down the prayer mat, I see a glimpse of my dream. “
“What have you done? Tell me?”
“It was just a small mistake. Why is Allah doing this to me?”
“Allah is just and merciful. He never punishes someone for things they have not done. You must have done something. What is it?” replied Ali Haider with a rage on his face.
“Why? Why the f*** would you think that what I did was not a mistake. Why?”
“Abuse?” said Ali Haider shockingly, as he never believed that someone who is a religious scholar could use such words.
“Yes! I abuse. If that’s what my crime is, why these m******* gangsters and politicians are sleeping peacefully and I am unable to sleep?”
“You don’t know about them and their life. Everyone will be judged according to what they do.”
“Oh! Shut up, Maulana! These things don’t work in real life. I teach Quran and it’s not enough to quench my hunger while other f***** are getting richer day by day.”
“You are lost. I can’t talk to you. I would ask you to leave.”
“I am leaving. Who even wanted to stay here in this f****** place?”
“Before you leave, remember that there is still time for asking repentance and if it’s someone you hurt, ask for their forgiveness because Allah only forgives if the person forgives.”
“I prayed so much, I worship Him so much, I bowed before Him so much and He can’t let go a single mistake of mine. Why? This is no justice. All my worship is taken for granted for that one mistake,” said Ismail having a proud tone.
Without listening to what Maulana Ali Haider had to say, Ismail left the room and slammed shut the door behind.
“My child, that’s exactly how Satan reacted. Did you forget that he worshiped Allah more than any other jinn? Don’t you know he bowed before Allah on every inch of the earth? That one moment of pride in him took everything away from him. What are you? Just a human. A human who is made to do mistakes and ask repentance from Allah. I pray to Allah to bring you on the right path,” said Maulana in an attempt to make him listen.
On leaving the masjid, Ismail headed towards his home. While heading towards his home, he saw a youngster sitting on the road and rolling a joint while trying to hide it from the public.
“Can I roll that for you and have a puff or two?” said Qari Ismail while approaching towards the youngsters.
“You and Chars?” asked the youngster surprisingly because of Ismail’s beard and his apparel.
“Yeah! What’s wrong with me?”
“I heard it’s forbidden in our religion and you, being a religious person, want to do something that’s forbidden?” he inquired suspiciously.
Ismail rolled his eyes at him and said, “Whatever we do is right. Moreover, I have been smoking them when I was young. I just left them when I started to live in the masjid colony because that would have destructed my image.”
“You’re disco!” said the youngster mocking him.
Ismail took the material from the youngster and rolled a joint. He kept on smoking joint after joint, when finally he became so befuddled that he passed out on the street. When he woke up in the morning, he saw himself laid beside a sewer. He rushed towards his bike and on the bike’s mirror he saw mud stuck on his face and body and that reminded him of his dream. “I am rotten. I am rotten because of my sins. I am rotten,” these words echoed his mind again and again until he once again passed out.
He then woke up to found himself at his home. He found that three men from the masjid, who knew him, found him cataleptic on road and brought him home. Neither his wife nor his children talked to him and tried to know what happened because of his attitude towards them.
Days passed and he became more and more distressed. The dream, the voice, his face with mud and his conversation with Maulana kept echoing his mind. He couldn’t sleep, his appetite was gone, his prayer was missed and he was mute.
Finally, it struck him that only Maulana could help him so he left his home for Maulana. When he reached the masjid, he saw his colleague’s eyes were asking many questions. He avoided each one of them and hasted towards Maulana’s room. He knocked and entered.
“What are you doing here?” inquired Maulana Ali Haider in a heated voice.
“Save me! Maulana, Save me! I am haunted by myself. I am afraid to be alone with myself. Save me from the monster I have in me,” he whines.
“I cannot save you from yourself. You have turned yourself into a monster yourself. Your pride, your actions and all your sins had made you a monster.”
“I am ready to do anything! Just save me! Maulana, please.”
“What is it that you say was your minor mistake? ” Maulana interrogated.
After a very long pause, he said, “It all happened 6 months before when a poor hawker asked me to teach Quran to his six-year-old son, Rayan. They were poor and couldn’t afford to make him learn Quran at home. The mother was too much reluctant to send their only son to a free-of-cost boarding madrassah.”
“They requested me to teach their son free of cost. Their son appealed to me sexually and as he was little chubby. I imagined him under me as soon as I saw his buttocks and therefore I never told them that he could study here as a daily scholar free of cost and instead, asked them to send him to my home at night. They trusted me and thought as I am a reputed religious personality, I will never break their trust and agreed on sending their only beloved son to my home at night. I, on the other hand, took advantage of their trust and indulged in foreplay with their son.
“Do you feel guilty?” inquired Maulana with a rage on his face.
“I do! But that’s not it Maulana. I did more to that innocent child.”
“What on earth do you mean by more?” said Maulana shockingly.
“One night when he came to my house, I was alone. My wife and children were away and I was aroused. When I saw him coming, it aroused me more. He entered my house and started to unpack his bag but I stopped him and lifted him up in my arms. He laughed thinking I was joking but then I took him into my room and threw him on the bed. Falling on bed hurt him and he started to cry. He pleaded me to let him go home but I ignored all his tears and cries.”
“I tore apart his shirt with my hands and ripped his pants off using my filthy mouth and forced myself into him. He cried, pleaded for my mercy but the monster in me took over and I couldn’t see all his pledge. I let him go and asked him never to tell his parents or else I would tell them about how lack of concerned he was about studying and he will be beaten by his father.”
Maulana Ali raised his hands to slap him but instead, he stopped and said, “I can’t slap you for what you did because that will be too small of a punishment. You are already eating yourself. Let yourself die with your own hands.”
“I am rotten, I let a child rot with the monster inside me. I snatched away his innocence, I tormented him. I showed him that face of humanity after which he would never be able to trust humans. I betrayed his trust. I uprooted that blameless smile from his face, forever. I am really rotten. I should rot.”
“Why didn’t his parents complain?” inquired Maulana Ali.
“The next day, his parents came to my door and asked me about him. I ridiculed them. I insulted them and warned them that if they would point a finger at a religious personality, it would make their life difficult. I told them that a religious person is always right and in this country, no matter how wrong a religious person does, he will always be right. People had followed them blindly and will follow them blindly. I notified him that pointing fingers on me will not only put his family’s honor at stake but will, in turn, ensure difficulty while marrying his daughter to anyone so it would be better for him to be quiet.”
“Get out of my sight! Allah will forgive you for missing your prayers, I may forgive you for all those abuses you cursed at me, your family may forgive you too but unless that child will not forgive you. You will rot and will never have your peace,” said Maulana pointing his fingers towards the door.
Ismail realized that if he wanted peace, he has to ask for mercy from that child so he rushed through the door and made his way towards the child’s home. He knocked the door and waited for it to anxiously get opened.
“You? After all that you did to my child, you have the audacity to be here?” asked the child’s father with rage.
“I have to seek refuge from your child, let me see him. I will go mad if I don’t seek his mercy. Please, I want to beg his forgiveness,” whined Ismail.
“What will you say to him? What is that you are asking forgiveness for? You have to ask him for forgiveness for something he doesn’t even know,” said the mother coming out from the house with teary eyes.
“I will just hold his feet and sniff until you forgive me.”
“We may forgive you but if you want his forgiveness you have to go where he is now,” said his father forlornly.
“What do you mean?”
“He died! The day you warned me not go anywhere, he got sick and I saw that rascal in you and knew that you will really cause us problem if I do what I should’ve done. I refrained from taking him to a public hospital because they would have asked me about the incident and telling your name, Mr. Rascal would add to my troubles. I could not afford a private hospital as they would’ve charged a lot, so I went to Hakim for treatment and it turned out he was also a fraud like you. He was also a mammoth disguised as a devotee. He took my money to speed up the death of my son. His medicines were nothing but poison. Slowly, the pain and poison took the life out of my 6-year-old son. His death was nothing less than a nightmare. If you want his forgiveness, go where he is now. I promise if he forgives you, I will forgive you too and my wife will also forgive you but if you can’t get his forgiveness, I can’t forgive you because that will be unjust to my six-year-old,” said the man with tears in his eyes while he shut the door on Ismail’s face.
This news hit Ismail so hard when he heard that the innocent 6-year-old child, his only way for mercy from Allah, is no more. He now realized that he will never be able to get forgiveness and this thought made him more anxious. He kept on thinking about his dream and what a horrible immorality he committed with the innocent.
“I am rotten! I am rotten! I should rot until I am dead! I should be eaten by bugs. I should rot,” he kept on saying these lines and started to run on the street. He started to bite his nails, pulled his hair and started to tear off his clothes. While running, he bumped into an open sewer channel and all the filth splashed on him.
He put his hands in the sewer pipe, picked up all the filth and started to rub it all over his body. One day, he woke up near the sewer side. He lost all his sanity. Many times, his colleagues and family tried to take him away but they failed miserably. All he ever did was wake up beside the sewer and shout, “I am rotten! I am rotten! I should rot until I am dead! I should be eaten by bugs. I should rot,” and kept on rubbing filth on him. It was so prolonged that bugs really started to grow on his body. Tissues on his body really started to rot and fungus made its way until one day, after the effort of his wife, a mental asylum van loomed, put him in and drove away while he kept on saying, “I am rotten! I am rotten because of what I did.”
Note: Explicit details were removed from this article.
More Info: pink.parhlo.com