In Prophet's City.... Just one dance.
The large white mechanical umbrellas were gathered to make a canopy over the large courtyards expanding outside the Prophet's mosque. During sunny mornings and extremely hot afternoons the shades provided by these huge umbrellas were significant, specially for those pilgrims who could not catch their Congregational prayers inside the masjid due to heavy crowd.
Under the shade of one such umbrella , he was resting. Though he was still restless, To his right , as he tilted his head high, he could see the huge deep green dome, the symbol he was familiar with since his childhood. It was the symbol of the city of Prophet. It was the symbol of His resting place. It was the symbol of Islam.
A passerby went past him asking something in Arabic. He politely excused in English that he doesn't know the language. In a white long Arabic gown, if someone mistook him as an Arab, he wasn't wrong. He looked like one of them, with his tall height, strong built, fair complexion and brown hair, he looked as one of them.
At some distance an Arab family was resting, the kids were playing around, the husband was lying down under the shaded umbrella, the wife was serving qahva and sweet cakes to them. to Daniel Malik, they represented a perfect family.
Suddenly he found his eyes dampening. How unfortunate he had been. In his 42 years of life, he couldn't make his own family. He had many women, but never had a wife. He used to think children were a burden and something painstaking to take care of. He made a fortune by earning day and night, but now he had no one to spend this money with. He had all sorts of branded clothes and now he was only wearing these long white gowns. The most expensive hand made shoes he owned were of no use to him now, as most of the time in the vicinity of the holy land, he was barefoot.
He used to make fun of the people who did this, and now he was following their footsteps.
There was no set of rules or code of dressing to be followed in the land of Prophet, yet as soon as he arrived , he started obliging, he began following, he started resembling, his own Prophet.
A tear ran down his cheek.
"When You reach Madinah, You feel like doing what Prophet Muhammad (SAW) did, You tend to dress like him, You tend to wear fragrances he used to like, you want to pray like him and very slowly and gradually you follow his footsteps till you find yourself falling in love with your own Prophet (SAW)"
He could hear her whispering in his ears.
All of a sudden, he was missing her beside him.
All of a sudden, he wanted to seek his better half.
Under the shade of one such umbrella , he was resting. Though he was still restless, To his right , as he tilted his head high, he could see the huge deep green dome, the symbol he was familiar with since his childhood. It was the symbol of the city of Prophet. It was the symbol of His resting place. It was the symbol of Islam.
A passerby went past him asking something in Arabic. He politely excused in English that he doesn't know the language. In a white long Arabic gown, if someone mistook him as an Arab, he wasn't wrong. He looked like one of them, with his tall height, strong built, fair complexion and brown hair, he looked as one of them.
At some distance an Arab family was resting, the kids were playing around, the husband was lying down under the shaded umbrella, the wife was serving qahva and sweet cakes to them. to Daniel Malik, they represented a perfect family.
Suddenly he found his eyes dampening. How unfortunate he had been. In his 42 years of life, he couldn't make his own family. He had many women, but never had a wife. He used to think children were a burden and something painstaking to take care of. He made a fortune by earning day and night, but now he had no one to spend this money with. He had all sorts of branded clothes and now he was only wearing these long white gowns. The most expensive hand made shoes he owned were of no use to him now, as most of the time in the vicinity of the holy land, he was barefoot.
He used to make fun of the people who did this, and now he was following their footsteps.
There was no set of rules or code of dressing to be followed in the land of Prophet, yet as soon as he arrived , he started obliging, he began following, he started resembling, his own Prophet.
A tear ran down his cheek.
"When You reach Madinah, You feel like doing what Prophet Muhammad (SAW) did, You tend to dress like him, You tend to wear fragrances he used to like, you want to pray like him and very slowly and gradually you follow his footsteps till you find yourself falling in love with your own Prophet (SAW)"
He could hear her whispering in his ears.
All of a sudden, he was missing her beside him.
All of a sudden, he wanted to seek his better half.
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