ahmed_indian
to Allah we belong
:salam2:
She's My Sister
A true story translated from Arabic.
Her cheeks were worn and sunken and her skin hugged her bones. That didn't stop her though, you could never catch her not reciting Qur'an. Always vigil in her personal prayer room Dad had set up for her. Bowing, prostrating, raising her hands in prayer. That was the way she was from dawn to sunset and back again.
As for me, I craved nothing more than fashion magazines and novels. I treated myself all the time to videos until those trips to the rental place became my trademark. As they say, when something becomes habit people tend to distinguish you by it. I was negligent in my responsibilities and laziness characterized my Salah. One night, I turned the video off after a marathon three hours of watching. The adhan softly rose in that quiet night. I slipped peacefully into my blanket.
Her voice carried from her prayer room. "Yes? Would you like anything Noorah?" I said.
for continuation click here: She's my sister
She's My Sister
A true story translated from Arabic.
Her cheeks were worn and sunken and her skin hugged her bones. That didn't stop her though, you could never catch her not reciting Qur'an. Always vigil in her personal prayer room Dad had set up for her. Bowing, prostrating, raising her hands in prayer. That was the way she was from dawn to sunset and back again.
As for me, I craved nothing more than fashion magazines and novels. I treated myself all the time to videos until those trips to the rental place became my trademark. As they say, when something becomes habit people tend to distinguish you by it. I was negligent in my responsibilities and laziness characterized my Salah. One night, I turned the video off after a marathon three hours of watching. The adhan softly rose in that quiet night. I slipped peacefully into my blanket.
Her voice carried from her prayer room. "Yes? Would you like anything Noorah?" I said.
for continuation click here: She's my sister
