Chapter : 37 - Mujhe mukammal karde, Allah.

After making dua, I stood up and turned to keep the prayer mat to my parents' room, only to find Abbu standing by the door.

"So you took my prayer mat?" Abbu asked, still standing there, in a somewhat scolding tone.

I couldn't say anything, I just gave him a faint, apologetic smile, nervously running my hand through my hair.

Abbu smiled too and then started walking toward me.

Before I could say anything, he gently hugged me. Neither of us spoke anything, there was complete silence in the room.

"You are very dear to me, Aziz, and seeing you pray Tahajud today made me relief now," Abbu said with great warmth.

And once again, I couldn't say anything.

After embracing me for a while, Abbu looked at me, then at my tear-filled eyes. He seemed as if he wanted to say something but couldn't.

"Your prayer mat," I said, while handing it to him.

"From now on, you use it," he said with a smile.

"Shukriya," I replied softly.

"Pray Fajr and then get some sleep," Abbu said.

"Jii," I answered.

Then Abbu left the room.

I reached for the glass of water on my table stand and as I finished drinking just then Azaan for Fajr began. I checked the time; it was 5:10 AM. Had I been praying Tahajud for an hour? I had only prayed two rakats of Tahajud. Was my dua really that long? I started to feel a strange happiness. The person who didn't even know Allah had spent an entire hour talking to Him today.

"Assalamualaikum, Samir," I called him after the Azaan.

"What did you say, Aziz?" came a question full of disbelief from the other end.

"I'm greeting you. Aren't you going to reply?" I asked him.

"I can't believe you are greeting me," Samir said.

"Walaikum assalam," he replied after a pause.

"Where are you right now?" I asked him the next question.

"I'm going to the mosque," he answered.

"Wait outside the mosque, I'm coming too," I said, and ended the call.

After performing wuzu, I headed towards the mosque. When I reached there, I saw Samir standing by the gate. A slight smile appeared on my face when I saw him. He saw me too, but his face showed no expression.

After so many years, I came to the mosque to pray with a sincere heart, and for the first time, my steps didn't falter. It felt as though Allah had granted me permission to enter His house.

We both performed the Fajr prayer, and once again, my eyes filled with tears while making dua. Tears were the only way I could express my sorrow. During Tahajud, I had only asked for forgiveness for my sins, but now, in this moment of sajda (prostration), she was all I could think about.

Uns Reza, yeh ek naam, yeh ek aurat neh meri puri zindagi badal di, mai nahi jaanta ki mujhe isi aurat seh mohabbat kyun hui, kya uski aankhon neh mujhe uski aur khincha? Yaah uski haya neh, yaah uska mujhe uski duao me maangne ki adaah, mujhe uske aur kareeb khincha? Har baar mein yeh jaane ki koshish karta hoon ki mujhe usi seh mohabbat kyun hui, aur har baar mai jawaab dhudhne mein nakamiyab hota hoon.

(Uns Reza, this one name, this one woman, has completely changed my life. I don't understand why I fell in love with her. Was it her eyes that drew me to her? Or was it her modesty? Or perhaps the way she prayed for me in her supplications that brought me closer to her? Every time I try to understand why I fell in love with her, I fail to find an answer).

Us aurat neh chaand raat ke din tujhse mujhe maanga tah, aur aaj teri chaukat mein sajda kiye mai us aurat ko maangta hoon.

Mai Uns ki mohabbat ko maangta hoon, mujhe us aurat ki paak mohabbat seh nawaaz deh, mujhe mukammal karde Allah, mujhe mukammal karde.

(This woman asked for me from You on the night of Eid, and today, in prostration before You, I ask you for her. I you ask for Uns's love. Bless me with her pure love, complete me Allah, complete me).

"Aziz, the sun is about to rise," I heard Samir's voice as I was still praying. I completed my prayer and got up. Samir gave me a glance and started walking. I took small steps behind him as we walked out of the mosque.

As soon as we stepped outside, Samir gave me a tight hug. Everything happened so suddenly that I couldn't comprehend it.

"Meri ab tak ki zindagi mein, tum pehle shaqsh ho jise Maine dua karte waqt, yuhn rote hue dekha, tumhare aansu kisi ko bhi rula sakhte hai Aziz, kisi ko bhi," Usne kehna khatam kiya.

("In all my life, you are the first person I've seen crying while praying. Your tears can make anyone cry, Aziz, anyone," he said, finishing his words.

And once again, tears started falling from my eyes because I remembered her again, Uns Reza came to my mind once more. How could I tell him about that woman's tears? How could I explain that I had never seen anyone cry in prayer like she did?

Seeing her cry during prayer astonished me. I used to wonder how someone could cry while praying, but today I understood the reason behind every tear of hers. she cries at the mention of her Allah.

Use allah seh baat karke sukoon mehsoos hota tah, aur aaj kai mehino baad maine woh sukoon mehsoos kiya tah, mujhe nahi pata tah ki namaz mein itni taakat hoti hai, dua maange mein itna sukoon aur umeed milti hai, sukoon ki maine kisi seh nahi balki mere khuda seh maanga hai, aur umeed ki woh mujhe woh zarur dega.

(She finds peace in talking to Allah, and today, after many months, I have felt that peace. I never knew that prayer held such power, that in asking for blessings, one could find such tranquility and hope. I asked for peace not from anyone but from my God, with the hope that He will surely grant it to me).

"Bhai, I have committed a great sin," Samir said, standing in front of me with tearful eyes.

"What sin?" I couldn't understand what sin he was talking about.

"I have hurt Sahara," he confessed, standing outside the mosque with tears streaming down his face.

And I was just listened to him silently.

"I... I love Sahara, bhai. I don't know how, when, or why it happened, but I love her. Maybe I've loved her since childhood, but I never realized it. I thought she only liked me as a friend, and liking each other as friends is normal. But no, it wasn't just that. I love her. I would have never realized if she hadn't ended up in a brothel, saying 'Bas mohabbat hogayi tih tumse, Samir' What should I do, bhai? What's happening to me? Why didn't I understand her love?" Samir kept asking through his tears.

How could I console him when I, too, had hurt someone's heart and broken someone's trust?

Without saying anything, I took his hand and brought him to my mansion. Once we reached my room, I gave him a glass of water.

"Rest for a while," I told him.

Without asking anything, he layed down on the bed to sleep, and I went to my master bedroom to sleep.

After praying Maghrib, I was looking around the mosque's verandah, searching for that boy. I wanted to meet him once, to know his name.

After waiting for ten minutes, when I was about to leave, he appeared in front of me, holding the Quran, with his eyes down. He passed by me and went to sit in a corner. I followed him and sat beside him.

As he opened the Quran, he glanced at me and smiled before turning the pages. Then he started reciting the Quran. There was something captivating about his voice, something that made me to listen him.

For about twenty minutes, I sat silently beside him, listening. After he finished reciting, he looked at me.

"My name is Ali," he introduced himself with a smile.

"My name is Aziz," I introduced myself and extended my hand for a handshake.

He shook my hand and said something surprising.

"I have read your name," Ali said.

"My name?" I asked in disbelief.

"Let me show you," he said, pulling a book from his bag. I watched him in confusion as he turned the pages.

He brought his book closer to me and pointed to my name written in Urdu.

"Al-Aziz," He read it out loud.

"Why is my name here?" I wanted to ask him why my name was written there, but I couldn't bring myself to.

"Your name is very precious; your name is one of Allah's 99 names. Al-Aziz, what a beautiful name you have," the little boy said, smiling. And I listened to him with broken heart.

"Are you crying again?" Ali asked as he closed the book.

"No, just something went in my eye," I replied, wiping away my tears and giving him a fake explanation.

"Do you know, just like you, a Baaji used to cry whenever she read your name. And when I asked her, she gave the same answer-something went in her eye," he said, with a smile.

"Who is that Baaji?" I asked.

"The one who gave me this Quran," he replied.

This Quran? Who is this kid? I wondered why crying upon hearing my name from someone else made me curious to know who she was.

"Where are you from? And where is this baaji of yours?" I asked him.

"You won't kidnap me, will you?" he asked, looking at me suspiciously.

A smile crept onto my face before I could say anything, he interrupted me saying,

"Well, kidnapping a child in the mosque would not be a good thing to do, would it?" He answer his own question, with satisfaction.

"No, I won't kidnap you," I said, nodding in agreement.

"I live in an orphanage, and the baaji used to come sometimes, but not anymore," Ali explained.

"Orphanage? Which one?" I asked, being curious.

"Um... I don't remember the name," he said, while trying to recall.

"It's okay," I reassured him.

"Will you come to my orphanage?" he asked, excitedly now.

"Of course, whenever you call me, I'll come," I said, with a light smile.

"Will you come now?" he asked, now standing up.

"Now?" I asked, being surprised, as it was almost time for Isha prayer.

"It's nearby," he said.

"Okay," I replied and stood up.

He held my hand in his small hand and began walking briskly, as if he was very excited to show me his house.

We both came out of the mosque, and he took out his bicycle.

"Are we going on the cycle?" I asked, still uncertain about it.

"Yes," he replied.

"Will I fit on your bicycle?" I asked him, folding my arms.

"No, you won't. I'll ride the bicycle, you can walk," he replied, also folding his arms.

"I have a car, let's go in the car," I suggested.

"No, no, I don't trust strangers. Who knows, you might kidnap me in the car. I can't take any risk," Ali said dramatically.

"Yaah Allah, this kid is even more delusional than me," I thought to myself.

"Alright, fine. You ride your cycle, I'll come in the car," I offered again.

"Done," he said proudly.

I followed him in my car, and within 10 minutes, we reached our destination.

As I stepped out of the car and saw Ali's orphanage, my steps haltered.

Why, Allah, why again? This is the same orphanage, the one where I once came with Uns?

Ali opened the gate of the orphanage, holding my hand.

I looked at his hand and closed my eyes. I wasn't ready to hear another truth. He led me to the same room where Uns used to give gifts to these children.

"No, this can't be true," I reassured myself.

Lost in my thoughts, I was interrupted by an elderly lady approaching us.

"Do you need anything, dear?" she asked.

"Me? Uhhh... No," I stuttered.

"Okay," she said and moved towards the kids.

Meanwhile, Ali was engrossed in keeping his Quran, and for some reason, I felt a strange unease creeping into my heart. My steps involuntarily led me towards the lady.

"Amma, I wanted to ask you something," I asked with great hesitation.

"Go ahead, dear," she replied with a smile.

"That Quran, who gave it to you?" I asked, pointing towards Ali's Quran.

"Well... That Quran, my daughter gave it to them," she said.

Hearing her words, I felt a strange joy wash over me, as if a fear had been released. She wasn't Uns. I took a deep breath hearing it's Amma's daughter who gave the Qurans.

"She was a very sweet girl, she would bring something or the other every month, and she would bring something for me too. Oh Aakif, what's the name of that girl?" Amma asked a boy standing nearby about her daughter.

Doesn't she remember her own daughter's name? I wondered.

"Amma, how many times do I have to tell you, baaji's name is Uns. It's just three letters, remember it," the boy said, and my brain seemed to stop working.

Uns? Meri Uns?

"What's her full name, Amma?" I asked, holding my breath.

"Aakif, what's Uns's full name?" Amma asked the boy again.

"Amma, baaji's full name..." Aakif paused for a moment, then he took the name that scared me.

"Uns Reza," Aakif said.

Uns Reza? Why it's her again? I asked myself.

Woh orphanage, woh kitaab, woh baccha, woh naam? Sab ek baar phirse nazro ke saamne aane laga.

(That orphanage, that book, that child, that name? Everything started coming back before my eyes once again).

In this same place she once talked to me about Zakat, how Zakat is given in the name of Allah, without expecting anything in return. She said our Zakat can bring happiness to someone's face or change someone's life, and that's exactly what happened.

Her given Quran with Allah's name changed my life. Uns, the woman who gave the Quran as Zakat changed my entire life.

Who are you Uns?

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Chapter Aesthetics :

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