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A VERY POWERFUL STORY

Monday, 15 June 2015

He remembered his grandmother’s warning about praying on time: “My son, you shouldn’t leave
prayer to this late time.” His grandmother’s age was 70 but whenever she heard the Adhan, she got
up like an arrow and performed Salah/Namaz/prayer. He, however could never win over his ego to
get up and pray. Whatever he did, his Salah was always the last to be offered and he prayed it
quickly to get it in on time. Thinking of this, he got up and realized that there were only 15 minutes
left before Salat-ul Isha. He quickly made Wudhu and performed Salat-ul Maghrib. While making
Tasbih, he again remembered his grandmother and was embarrassed by how he had prayed. His
grandmother prayed with such tranquility and peace. He began making Dua and went down to
make Sajdah and stayed like that for a while.
He had been at school all day and was tired, so tired. He awoke abruptly to the sound of noise and
shouting. He was sweating profusely. He looked around. It was very crowded. Every direction he
looked in was filled with people. Some stood frozen looking around, some were running left and
right and some were on their knees with their heads in their hands just waiting. Pure fear and
apprehension filled him as he realized where he was.
His heart was about to burst. It was the Day of Judgment. When he was alive, he had heard many
things about the questioning on the Day of Judgment, but that seemed so long ago. Could this be
something his mind made up? No, the wait and the fear were so great that he could not have imag-
ined this. The interrogation was still going on. He began moving frantically from people to people
to ask if his name had been called. No one could answer him. All of a sudden his name was called
and the crowd split into two and made a passageway for him. Two people grabbed his arms and led
him forward. He walked with unknowing eyes through the crowd. The angels brought him to the
center and left him there. His head was bent down and his whole life was passing in front of his
eyes like a movie. He opened his eyes but saw only another world. The people were all helping oth-
ers. He saw his father running from one lecture to the other, spending his wealth in the way of
Islam. His mother invited guests to their house and one table was being set while the other was
being cleared.
He pleaded his case; “I too was always on this path. I helped others. I spread the word of Allah.
I performed my Salah. I fasted in the month of Ramadan. Whatever Allah ordered us to do, I did.
Whatever he ordered us not to do, I did not.” He began to cry and think about how much he loved
Allah. He knew that whatever he had done in life would be less than what Allah deserved and his
only protector was Allah. He was sweating like never before and was shaking all over. His eyes were
fixed on the scale, waiting for the final decision. At last, the decision was made. The two angels with
sheets of paper in their hands, turned to the crowd. His legs felt like they were going to collapse. He
closed his eyes as they began to read the names of those people who were to enter Jahannam/Hell.
His name was read first. He fell on his knees and yelled that this couldn’t be, “How could I go toJahannam? I served others all my life, I spread the word of Allah to others.” His eyes had become
blurry and he was shaking with sweat. The two angels took him by the arms. As his feet dragged,
they went through the crowd and advanced toward the blazing flames of Jahannam. He was yelling
and wondered if there was any person who was going to help him. He was yelling of all the good
deeds he had done, how he had helped his father, his fasts, prayers, the Qur’an that he read, he was
asking if none of them would help him. The Jahannam angels continued to drag him. They had got-
ten closer to the Hellfire. He looked back and these were his last pleas. Had not Rasulullah [saw]
said, “How clean would a person be who bathes in a river five times a day, so too does the Salah
performed five times cleanse someone of their sins?” He began yelling, “My prayers? My prayers?
My prayers?”
The two angels did not stop, and they came to the edge of the abyss of Jahannam. The flames of the
fire were burning his face. He looked back one last time, but his eyes were dry of hope and he had
nothing left in him. One of the angels pushed him in.
He found himself in the air and falling towards the
flames. He had just fallen five or six feet when a hand
grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back. He lifted
his head and saw an old man with a long white beard.
He wiped some dust off himself and asked him,
“Who are you?” The old man replied, “I am your prayers.”
“Why are you so late! I was almost in the Fire! You
rescued me at the last minute before I fell in.”
The old man smiled and shook his head. “You always
performed me at the last minute, and did you forget?”
At that instant, he blinked and lifted his head from
Sajdah. He was in a sweat. He listened to the voices
coming from outside. He heard the adhan for Salat-ul
Isha. He got up quickly and went to perform Wudhu.
“Say Your Prayers Before Prayers For You Are Said.”
“Namaz Parh Is Se Pehle Ke Teri Namaz Parhi Jaye.

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