Haya - The forbidden love

Chapter 18

ROHAN

AFTER ONE MORE YEAR

My hands trembled a little as I poured water over them, each drop cooling the nervous sweat that had formed. Mr. Ahmed instructed me patiently, his voice a gentle murmur, "Wash your right nostril three times, then your left nostril three times..."

For weeks, I'd been drawn to Islam, its teachings resonating with a deep yearning in my heart. Mr. Ahmed, had patiently answered my endless questions. Today, I was finally taking the shahadah, the declaration of faith, officially converting to Islam.

"Wash your mouth three times," Mr. Ahmed said, his kind eyes crinkling at the corners. I did as instructed, the coolness of the water momentarily distracting me from the momentous occasion.

"Wash your right arm from elbow to fingertips three times, then your left arm in the same manner," he continued. With each action, a wave of emotion washed over me. Relief, excitement, and a tinge of nervousness battled within me.

Finally, the moment arrived. Mr. Ahmed sat opposite me, his gaze filled with warmth. "Rohan, are you ready to say the shahadah?"

I took a deep breath, the weight of the decision settling on my shoulders. Yet, it felt right, like a missing piece finally clicking into place. "Yes, Mr. Ahmed," I said, my voice thick with emotion.

A soft smile touched his lips. "Repeat after me," he began, his voice clear and strong. "Ashhadu an laa ilaaha ill-Allaah wa ashhadu anna Muhammadan rasul-Allaah." (I bear witness that there is no god but Allah, and I bear witness that Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah.)

The words tumbled out of my mouth, a foreign melody that felt strangely familiar. As I finished, a wave of peace washed over me, calming the storm of emotions within. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision.

Mr. Ahmed placed a hand on my shoulder, his touch conveying a silent understanding. "Welcome to Islam, my son" he said, his voice choked with emotion. We embraced, a silent prayer exchanged between us.

Pulling back, a wide grin stretched across my face. Though tears still clung to my lashes, they were tears of joy, of a newfound belonging. "Thank you, Mr. Ahmed," I managed, my voice thick with gratitude. "Thank you for guiding me."

He chuckled, wiping a tear from his own eye. "It was your journey, Rohan. I was merely a companion on your path."

We sat together for a while longer, lost in a comfortable silence. The weight that had burdened me for so long had lifted, replaced by a lightness I hadn't known existed. This was the beginning of a new chapter in my life, and though there would be challenges, I knew I wouldn't face them alone. I had a community, a father in Mr. Ahmed, and most importantly, I had faith.

FEW MONTHS AGO

The only light in my room came from the small desk lamp, casting a warm glow over the worn copy of the Quran in front of me. I swallowed hard, the familiar scent of old paper filling my senses. It wasn't my holy book, not at all. But lately, it felt like the only source of comfort in the quiet emptiness of my apartment.

For weeks, I'd been flipping through these pages, a curious explorer in a world unknown. Life had thrown some tough punches lately, leaving me feeling lost and alone. I craved a reason to be here, a connection to something bigger than myself. This dusty book, a Quran I found at a local market, seemed to hold whispers of answers.

Tonight my eyes landed on Surah Duha i close my eyes and start to read it.

" By the Morning brightness, and by the Night when it's called covered with darkness, your Lord hasn't taken leave of you, nor he has detested you, and the hereafter is better for your than the first life , and you Lord is going to give you and you will he satisfied . Did he not find you orphan and give you refuge. And he find you lost and guided you, and he find you poor and made you self sufficient. So as for the orphan do not oppress him. As for the petitioner do not repel him, and as for the favor of your lord report it "