“Ameen”
A chorus of baritone voices chanted at the end of every sentence that the Imam enunciated, regardless of the fact if they understood the meaning or not, convinced that the louder and deeper they intoned their “Ameen” the clearer God would hear them, ironically forgetting the Imam’s sermon about God being closer than their jugular veins. But that didn’t matter as long as their Masha Allah was in unison with others, did it?
Mohid eyed the exit, waiting impatiently for the prayers to end, determined to leave the mosque as fast as possible lest he miss the highly anticipated El Classico match, which was a likely possibility since he had opted to walk the 4 km from his home to the mosque, he didn’t even know what the time was because he had left his phone at home. This last Ameen was his signal to leave and he all but ran outside and searched for his shoes.
They had been taken. A wave of emotions as tumultuous and violent as a tsunami wave rolled over him. As he regained control over himself he thought of his next line of action and this led to him being convinced that the universe itself was conspiring against him, for his lack of a phone or a vehicle at that moment and place left him with only one choice, one outrageous, unthinkable, unspeakable choice.
He would have to walk home barefooted. Sullenly he resigned himself to this tragic fate and stepped from the smooth marble steps onto the burning asphalt, all thoughts of seeing Messi score a goal forgotten as the blistering of the feet on his skin took front place in his brain.
He walked and walked, occasionally letting out a swear word or two as pointy bits and pieces cut him. His naked feet, soft as a new born baby’s, seldom traveled on a dusty floor, were now covered with cuts and dust. His long beard, shaggy hair, grown out to follow the latest trends and the assortment of bracelets on his hands and his bare footed-ness lead many a soul to believe that they were looking at a devoted pilgrim of one of the many thousand saints that rested in their tombs in that city.
He walked and walked, his eyes watering due to the smoke of traffic, his feet now a wild animal’s most coveted dream, covered with several different types of fruits, meats and other substances of dubious origins, his hair matted with sweat.
He walked and walked, the blazing Sun in all it’s glory and the pain and stink of his feet causing him to seek refuge in his thoughts. His thoughts had been normal at first but now had become incoherent. Parts and pieces of the Friday sermon affirming the status of man as Ashraful Makhluqat( Greatest of all Creation) and a T.V. show concerning the origin of the components of a living being’s body, swirled in his mind.
He walked and walked and saw a star forming. It is but an infant. Now it burns with the vigor of youth. It is a supernova now that outshines the entire galaxy. Now it is nothing but everything, its component elements a part of countless beings, all with the potential to shine as bright as the star, all with the potential to humble the mighty sun with their final blaze.
He walked and walked, now remembering the tale of Beauty and the Beast, however in this version the Beast realizes that the Beauty he needs to woo is the Beauty within, it’s his soul that he need to kiss, for the Beast is naught but a form that he himself confines himself in by not letting it be transformed by the soul.
He walked and walked, the cuts and smells and sunlight no longer a source of discomfort to him.
He walked and walked, a glorious prince, a fiery star.
