Just one dance .... journey continues.
He was sitting infront of Bab-e-Jibril, the door in the vicinity of the great dome of the Holy mosque in Madinah Al Munawarra.
It was the third consecutive day, he was in the same state, stumbling and wobbling he would come to the same place each day , standing and watching, people going in and coming out of the mosque. He knew this was the door used by Angel Jibril to bring holy messages from the Almighty, in the form of Quranic verses. Just thinking about the phenomenon and the intensity of the sacredness of this very place would make him tremble, until he could not stabilize his limbs and would fall off to floor.
He would sit there for the whole day , unfelt, unseen, undone.
He was unable to even join the congregation, being gathered there for five prayers a day.
He was unable to enter the Holy mosque.
There was this persistent feeling that would remind him of
his unworthiness,
his sinful life,
his unholy attitude
towards the sacredness of this Holy place.
As if his whole life story was being re winded for him, he was ashamed of his own deeds and could not consider himself eligible to seek entrance to this sacred piece of earth.
He wanted to seek forgiveness but he did not know how.
He was unsure of his acceptance by his own Prophet and by his own Creator.
He was going through a phase of transition, from darkness to enlightenment. Yet he was in the midway, and as one comes out of sheer darkness and faces sudden exposure to bright light, the inner soul of Daniel Malik was going through blindness in front of this brilliance of emaan.
He was moving up from the dark hole to an illuminated surface.
He needed a helping hand to pull him up.
It was the third consecutive day, he was in the same state, stumbling and wobbling he would come to the same place each day , standing and watching, people going in and coming out of the mosque. He knew this was the door used by Angel Jibril to bring holy messages from the Almighty, in the form of Quranic verses. Just thinking about the phenomenon and the intensity of the sacredness of this very place would make him tremble, until he could not stabilize his limbs and would fall off to floor.
He would sit there for the whole day , unfelt, unseen, undone.
He was unable to even join the congregation, being gathered there for five prayers a day.
He was unable to enter the Holy mosque.
There was this persistent feeling that would remind him of
his unworthiness,
his sinful life,
his unholy attitude
towards the sacredness of this Holy place.
As if his whole life story was being re winded for him, he was ashamed of his own deeds and could not consider himself eligible to seek entrance to this sacred piece of earth.
He wanted to seek forgiveness but he did not know how.
He was unsure of his acceptance by his own Prophet and by his own Creator.
He was going through a phase of transition, from darkness to enlightenment. Yet he was in the midway, and as one comes out of sheer darkness and faces sudden exposure to bright light, the inner soul of Daniel Malik was going through blindness in front of this brilliance of emaan.
He was moving up from the dark hole to an illuminated surface.
He needed a helping hand to pull him up.
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