The past two weeks had been very exhausting for Ayan, both emotionally and physically. 14 days passed since his mother had passed away, yet he wasn't still over it. He used to cry all night and did not meet anybody neither talked to anyone over the phone or in person. There was a strange kind of restlessness on his face. His eyes were swollen and he had become very weak and also he had lost his appetite. He wasn't still able to comprehend what had just happened in a short span of time. Just two weeks earlier, his life was a bed of roses with absolutely no worries and of course, he had his mother by his side who would support him no matter what.
Sara and Shehroze tried calling Ayan several times but he didn't even know where his phone was. They also came over to his house to meet him but he refused to. Ayan wanted sometime to himself.
There was a knock at the door. Ayan lifted his head up from between his knees and asked, ' Who's there?' to which the reply came, ' Ayan, my boy, its me, dad. Please open the door Ayan.' Ayan got up and opened the door because he knew his father won't go without talking to him. ' Son, what have you done to yourself, just look at you, you've become so weak and so unhealthy. What are you harming yourself for? Look, she had to go so she did on the exact time. No one could stop her from leaving this world. Not me, not you, not even the world's most expensive hospital and the most experienced doctor. All of us have made a promise to Allah before coming here that we have to leave one day and we have to fulfil this promise no matter what. It's destiny. Try communicating with your creator to find some peace.'
Ayan's father hinted on turning to Allah in hidden words. He was aware of the fact that his son is too liberal and hates religious talks and considers all of it as old-school so he was not too mainstream about it. Ayan was their only son so they never told him to do anything against his will and same was the case with his religion. But this time, much to his surprise, Ayan did not react aggressively to any of his statements. Not that he was not listening to his father, but he was immersed in his thoughts and his father's words were bringing a strange kind of satisfaction to his soul.
Ayan's father made him eat some fruits and left the room, leaving Ayan with a puzzled mind on whether to listen to his father or not, whether to give this a shot or not. Ayan corrected his posture and sat on his bed, resting his head against the pillow, staring at the roof with a blank face.
' What are you looking for my dear? Peace? Comfort? Contentment? Solace? Well locking yourself in a room and not communicating with anyone won't do all this for you.' The voice came from his own room, Ayan tried getting up to see who was it but he couldn't. There was a complete silence for a while when he heard the voice again, ' You won't find the voice of your heart anywhere in your room, so drop this idea. Let's come straight to the point. Have you ever wondered why you had everything, money, cars and big mansion but you didn't have peace. You always ignored this thing and busied yourself somewhere but deep down, you knew you lacked one thing essential for life, that is PEACE. Ayan, you've always run from even pondering over the fact that WHY didn't you get peace. Let's just put all this chaos to an end. I know you're in dire need of contentment so my dear, communicate with yourself, communicate with the healer of hearts, communicate with your lord who gave you every single thing but deprived you of the most important thing. Turn to him before it's too late.'
Ayan woke up with a jerk. His back and forehead were completely wet with sweat. It was almost past-midnight. Just as he was beginning to comprehend what had happened, he heard a faded voice, a voice which he had ignored all his life, a voice he always disliked hearing, a voice by which he was irritated all his life;
'Hai ya Allas Salah,
Hai ya Allal falah'
But this time around he found it comforting. He found it soothing.
Unknowingly he got up from his bed and went to his washroom. He gazed at his reflection in the mirror. He had decided to give all this a shot. He had decided to turn to his creator. He had finally made this decision. He did not care about the consequences, neither did he want to. He performed ablution for the first time in twenty-two years. Just as he washed his body, he felt as if someone had lifted a heavy weight off his shoulders, as if all his worries, all his confusions were being washed away from him.
He did not have a prayer mat in the room so he picked up his comforter from the bed and laid it on the floor.
He bowed before Allah.
He bowed before someone for the first time.
Just as he finished the prayer, he lifted his hands. He actually did. He lifted his hands to pray.
' My lord, forgive me my lord. Ya Allah I've been living a life of ignorance for so long. I never feared you. I disobeyed you. I never thought that the one who has blessed me so much, can take all of it away from me as well and that too, in the blink of an eye. Ya' Allah you took the two most precious things away from me, my peace and my mother. Ya' Allah please forgive me. You're ' the forgiving' please forgive your ignorant servant, you love your servants more than 70 mothers. If i ask my one mother for something repeatedly, she would give it to me, Ya' Allah you love me more than 70 mothers, please grant me forgiveness, please Ya Allah I'm tired of all this now. I need peace. I need solace.'
Ayan never knew when two silent tears rolled down his cheeks. He felt a cool wind brushing through his soul, he felt peaceful. He felt light. He knew he had found his destination. The Real Destination.
But little did he know, all this was not as easy as he thought. He had to face the cruel world.
Note: So guys, i finally got some time off my busy schedule so i decided to update this. Please let me know what do you think about the updates. I open heartedly welcome all the constructive criticism.
Oh, and don't forget to tap the ⭐️.
* yet to proofread, ignore the errors.
YOU ARE READING
The Real Destination [ Completed ]Spiritual
Ignorance to our religion and our norms is considered to be modernism and a stereotype has been set, through this story i want to change the mindsets and i hope this has a positive impact on your lives. Also, this is my first story so bear with the...