Just one dance " The Prophet's city"
The Azaan for maghrib prayers echoed through the air. It felt as if it was directly being called from the heavens.
People who were already coming towards the masjid, started taking quick short steps. As if that was the most important event of life,this Maghrib prayers, at the Holy mosque of Prophet Muhammad (SAW).
For those who were on their pilgrimage to the Holy land, it was, indeed. They had come from far lands, crossing the seas and mountains, travelling with easy means or much diffciulties, coming with love and gratitude, coming with heartcahes and tenderness a heart could never feel otherwise, coming with the ache to meet the beloved, coming with hope to be accepted.
And here came the dilemma. Daniel Malik was unsure of his acceptance.
He had now taken the turn which would lead him to Babe jibril. The door of Angel Jibril leading to the final resting place of the Prophet. Overlying the entrance to the Prophet's mosque was the large green dome which was the most famous symbol of this holy place.
Daniel held his breath as he was standing still, watching the overpowring and dominating presence of the dome of the mosque. There was an unseen tug at his heart. There were unflowing tears in his brown eyes. The shivering of his weakening limbs was intensifying. His breaths were uneven and he had lost almost all his energy to move further.
The congregation for maghrib prayers was about to begin. The imam was giving the final call. People were gathering and making rows even in verandah of the masjid. Daniel found himself illfitting in this crowd. He was unknown to himself. At that very moment he even forgot how to say a prayer.
He felt like weeping. He felt helpless.
He knew only his creator could help him out, yet the irony was he was unsure how to reach Him!
People who were already coming towards the masjid, started taking quick short steps. As if that was the most important event of life,this Maghrib prayers, at the Holy mosque of Prophet Muhammad (SAW).
For those who were on their pilgrimage to the Holy land, it was, indeed. They had come from far lands, crossing the seas and mountains, travelling with easy means or much diffciulties, coming with love and gratitude, coming with heartcahes and tenderness a heart could never feel otherwise, coming with the ache to meet the beloved, coming with hope to be accepted.
And here came the dilemma. Daniel Malik was unsure of his acceptance.
He had now taken the turn which would lead him to Babe jibril. The door of Angel Jibril leading to the final resting place of the Prophet. Overlying the entrance to the Prophet's mosque was the large green dome which was the most famous symbol of this holy place.
Daniel held his breath as he was standing still, watching the overpowring and dominating presence of the dome of the mosque. There was an unseen tug at his heart. There were unflowing tears in his brown eyes. The shivering of his weakening limbs was intensifying. His breaths were uneven and he had lost almost all his energy to move further.
The congregation for maghrib prayers was about to begin. The imam was giving the final call. People were gathering and making rows even in verandah of the masjid. Daniel found himself illfitting in this crowd. He was unknown to himself. At that very moment he even forgot how to say a prayer.
He felt like weeping. He felt helpless.
He knew only his creator could help him out, yet the irony was he was unsure how to reach Him!
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