In the Name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful

 "Peace and Blessings of Allah be upon our beloved Prophet Muhammad (s.a.s), all his descendents and companions."

                                                                                    -A'meen.                    

“If the hearts are pure, they will never have enough from reciting Allah’s words (the Holy Qur’an).”

                                                                     -Uthman ibn Affan (r.a)

CHAPTER THREE

“Can I ask you something Didi?” I said to my elder sister, plopping down beside her on the soft bouncy bed.

“Mhm…” was her vague response. She and her laptop were like some lone island among the sea of notes and books. With unwavering attention on the bright screen, she seemed to be typing something very carefully. Most probably her survey thing.

I don't know about others but for me, it always takes time to settle in a nice, comfy position, especially in a bed. I patted some pillows behind my back, moved a bit, stretched my legs and was about to sigh contently when I remembered something very important.  

 “Didi, where is my sea blue pillow?” I asked suspiciously, my eyes searching everywhere. They rested on the laptop, which was sitting happily on top of my favourite sea blue pillow. Ya Rahman! How can this…?

“Didi!” I almost shouted.

“Wha… What?” She looked around blinking, her pretty face tired and confused.

“What is it Gudi?” She repeated, wearily rubbing her eyes.

“Oh, well, nothing” I shrugged, vainly commanding my gaze not to look at the pillow again. It disobeyed, and Didi who had followed it with her own eyes exclaimed.

“Ya Allah! I am so sorry dear; I really did not see it was your sea blue one, here, have it,” She pulled and handed it to me through my feeble protests. “I usually don’t forget about your most precious possession, huh?” She twinkled.

I grinned and hugged my precious fluffy possession closer.

“You are tired Didi,” I said, giving her another pillow to place beneath the laptop. “May I help you to type?”

“No Gudi Jazak Allah,” She shook her head. “You already helped me with the entire survey, and you know I can manage the typing Insha Allah, it is the A.P. ma’am’s approval I am thinking of; nothing pleases her and this is the third time I am rewriting almost everything,” She sighed and fell flat on her back with a loud ‘thump’.

“Allah help me! This is final. No matter what that lady says tomorrow, I can’t and won’t rewrite again.” She moaned, her gaze fixed towards the heavens.

“Don’t worry Didi dear,” I said, softly stroking her hair. “Insha Allah Rahman will surely help you, you have been working on it since you came home and I know she will approve it tomorrow Di, take a break now and come and do what you like best,” I grinned and announced somewhat dramatically, “Hot and delicious dinner is waiting for the famished souls!”

She grinned back. “You always know how to comfort me best Gudi, I guess I will have to close these now,” She said, indicating her various books and notes. “One can’t reject such tempting invitation, besides I am starving,” She rubbed her tummy. “I don’t know where that coffee and biscuits went.”  

“Oh you ate that long back Di, come on now, Ammi has made Roti and daal,” I said, trying to pull her up. “And Didi I wanted to ask you something before, you were busy typing.”

“No, I will get up myself; do you think you have eight packs or what Gudi?” She teased, sitting up and stretching herself. “So what was that you wanted to ask me?”

“Well, I just wanted to know about your most favourite Surah in the Qur’an Di.” I said looking at her smiling face.

 “Most favourite Surah Gudi?” she repeated with a thoughtful frown.

“Yeah…”

“Uhmm…No,” She finally said, shaking her head. “There is nothing like that. I like the whole Qur’an of course! How can you ask such a silly question?”

“But Didi, it is not a silly question.” I said seriously, wondering how she can say like that.

“Of course it is not,” Didi said, pointing at me. “To you Gudi; but to me,” She quoted in the air. “It is without doubt a very silly question.” She grinned looking at my grave face. “Well?”

I sighed. How exactly do you tell your elder sister that you are not in a playful mood? It is very difficult to convince her sometimes that I am serious. I guess it is the complete opposite in some homes, where the elder ones struggle with their impish little siblings to make them take earnestly. Yet in our family, Didi is the playful and approachable one while I the quiet and shy Gudi who listens more than she talks.

“But Didi everybody has one, I have a most favourite Surah too…” I said slowly and noted that this only made her smile deepen while she quickly said, 

“Gudi dint I tell you that I am starving?”

“Yeah” I replied confused, thinking about the connection between my most favourite Surah, Didi’s starvation and her twinkling eyes.

“And now if you please little sis, we will go down to that hot Daal and Roti which has been calling me since you mentioned them,” Didi said, pushing me out of the bed. I stumbled and stood up clutching my sea blue pillow, my confusion growing more while she continued with a grin,

 “What I cannot understand is, Gudi, how you forgot that I know all about your ‘favourite Surah’, how many times you think I have heard you praising it?” Her eyes danced and I knew she was teasing me.

As if reading my thoughts she said in an amused tone, “No dear. I am really serious,” By which of course I knew she was definitely not. “Like really, shall we count how many times you have told me all about it before or can we just say in this month alone?”

“Didi!” I exclaimed, realizing too late that asking the question to Didi had been a very bad idea.

Ignoring me, she pretended to count on her fingers. “Uhmm…how many times did I hear her speak about it? Twice? Thrice? Or was it infinite?” She looked at me as if for confirmation, her lips trying to hide a smile.

“Didi, how can you…” I glared, bereft of words at her pretty face whose tired look had vanished replacing pure mischief.

“What dear?” was her innocent reply.

Without realizing what I was doing I flung my sea blue pillow at her, and muttering indignantly about some people who exaggerate things, stamped out of the room while Didi’s laughing voice floated behind me, “Hey Gudi! Come back…you know I was just teasing, don’t you want your pillow…?”  

So that was the last I spoke to Didi about the most favourite Surah. Hers, I mean. About mine I still speak and will continue to do so till my end Insha Allah and yeah, no surprises there she continues to tease me and I know will do so till her end!

*****

Not disappointed by Didi’s response, I continued asking the question to others, namely my parents (Ammi and Abba) and friends.

Ammi answered in her usual serene manner,

“Most favourite Surah dear?  Hmm… let me see, well there is Surah Ikhlas,” She said and I smiled thinking about the magnificence of that little Surah and was about to agree when Ammi continued, “then there is Surah Al-Furqan,” One of the best Surahs, I said to myself. “Also Surah Ar-Rahman…” Ammi paused, thinking.

It took a lot of my self control to just sit and beam at Ammi without jumping up and down in joy coz one never know when she will disapprove of our conduct and you would end up listening to a long lecture about the proper behavior in girls. So I merely smiled, suppressing the blissful feeling which seemed to spread like the sun’s pure, warm rays from my heart to everywhere at just the mention of the most beautiful name, Ar-Rahman!      

“…and Surah Yaseen, a wonderfully lovely Surah; of course, there is Surah Hashar too.” Ammi finally concluded.

“The last verses Ammi!” I added eagerly. Who wouldn’t like the glorious Asma ul Husna?

“Yes they are splendid verses.” Ammi agreed, smiling at my enthusiasm. I grinned back happily.

 “Are they all your most favourite Surahs Ammi?” I asked, mentally counting the number of Surahs she had said as favourite.

“Yes dear, do you want me to tell some more?” Ammi inquired, her dark eyes twinkling merrily.

“Ammi! Now you are teasing me just like Didi.” I mock complained, which my wide grin easily betrayed.

“Ah yes, your sister enjoys teasing her close ones,” Ammi said, her beautiful smile eclipsing mine. “What did she do now?”

“Oh nothing Ammi, you know, just the usual thing…” I shrugged. “And your most favourite one is?”

“All the five of course Gudi. Did you ask your Didi? Which was her favourite one?”

“None.” I shook my head. “That is, what she means is all Ammi.” I said, trying to explain what Didi had really meant. 

“All?” Ammi inquired with a puzzled air, not understanding what I had tried to say.

“Yup. It seems that she likes the whole Qur’an Ammiji and she said there was no such thing as a favourite Surah for her. The whole Qur’an is her favourite.” I said, watching the puzzled look disappear from Ammi’s face.

“Still how can it be Gudi? Everybody likes the whole Qur’an of course. Yet we all have some favourite ones too. Isn’t that so?” Ammi asked with her usual soft smile.

“Yeah.” I readily agreed. “But you know Didi… and Ammi do you think that asking about one’s most favourite Surah is a silly question?” I know it was stupid of me to ask that to Ammi; still I wanted to be reassured as that particular comment of Didi’s repeats into my head whenever I approach someone to ask this question.

“No my dear, it is not,” Ammi said soothingly. “Didn’t I just tell you mine? When you take time to ask about others interests and likes, they become closer to you and like you more for it; also this question is about Allah’s Holy Book, so asking it naturally makes you and others remember Him, which you know Gudi is something very fine and most rewarding. And that is what Allah Himself says, ‘Remember me, I will remember you…’ and the more you remember Him dear, the more closer you will become to Him, so are we satisfied now?” Ammi smiled, pressing my hand softly.  

I nodded, smiling back. My mind had completely banished every thought of silliness about the question.

“But Gudi you didn’t tell me about your most favourite Surah, Which is it?” Ammi asked curiously.

I wonder do you even want to be told, it’s pretty obvious, huh?

*****

“ What? Most favourite Surah?” Abba inquired in his brisk manner, searching my face with his keen eyes.

I nodded, while he continued “From the Qur’an, eh?”

I nodded again.

He closed his eyes and frowned slightly as if trying to remember. Opening them after some seconds, he shook his head decidedly.

 “No little Gudi, there is no such thing like that,” He said with his warm, pleasant smile. “Why do you ask?” His eyes gleamed humorously.

“Oh, well… it is nothing Abbu.” I shook my head. What can I say?

 It is during moments such as these that I always remember the apt saying ‘Like Father, Like Daughter’, which I sometimes say to infuriate Didi. Yet I don’t think I would tell her about Abba’s answer, if I do she would give that maddening grin of hers and will say; “Yeah only you think of asking such silly questions…”      

*****

It was only from one of my dear friend that I got a satisfactory reply. May Allah (Glorified and Exalted is He!) shower His most wonderful blessings on her both in this world and the hereafter, Ameen. 

“What is my most favourite Surah?” She repeated the question in her peculiar bubbly- teary voice. When she talked, I always get the strange feeling that the next moment she would burst into laughter or tears! I have never seen her do the latter while in the former she mostly indulged. 

“Why do you want to know Gudi?” She asked, looking at me doubtfully.

“Does that mean you have one?” I inquired eagerly. At last! I said to myself, somebody who really has a most favourite Surah. Like only one I mean, not two, three or five or all.

“Of course I have Gudi. Everybody has one you know.” She said in an incredulous tone, with her dark brows raised high, as if asking how I am ignorant of such a common thing.

Well, this only shows that she has yet to meet people like Didi and Abbu etc.

“It is Surah Maryam you see,” She began, looking at her scarlet henna clad nails. “I have always liked it. Don’t ask me why, I won’t be able to tell you exactly… maybe it is the meaning or the beginning or it is coz I admire Maryam (A.S) or it is well,” She smiled, shrugging. “It is just Surah Maryam Gudi. Do you understand what I mean?” She asked with shining eyes, in her soft quivery bubbly voice.

I nodded. “Every body who loves a Surah like you will understand what you mean,” I said thinking of the wonderful Surah Ar-Rahman. “And without doubt, Surah Maryam is one of the most beautiful Surah in the Qur’an.”

She laughed merrily in her own bubbly style. “It is, isn’t it? So which is your most favourite then?”

*****

“Whaachh? Mocshh Phevoritchh Churah?” asked my younger brother, Ahmed munching the chicken piece quite noisily.

“Yup” I said, suppressing a smile while Ammi admonished him, “Ahmed! Is this a way to eat? Where are you manners?”

He gave Ammi what he calls ‘my charming smile Di’, which only made him look hilarious because of his over stuffed mouth. I chortled and looked at Didi who was bent double, clutching her stomach in silent laughter.

“Amchmi… chomp…munch, I..mu am nchh sorry, I munch…” He stopped seeing Ammi’s stern glare.

“It was your mistake Ahmed that you left your lunch box at home and that too deliberately.” Ammi said softly, her voice not a bit raised yet we all felt the anger in it. Showing disrespect towards food is one of the few things with which one can easily earn both Ammi and Abba’s anger.

Ahmed opened his mouth to speak again but Ammi stopped him. “And don’t talk with your mouth full! Where did you learn such foolish behavior?” That silenced him for the next fifteen minutes.  

For a while nobody spoke and even Ahmed ate his food quietly (Or at least tried to) as he knew Ammi was watching him. Didi continued browsing in her mobile while I struggled to by heart one of the driest speeches I have ever read. Ya Allah! How people had even listened to it remains a wonder to me. Still it won’t have mattered to me what they do or hear if they hadn’t published such things in our text books and kill us poor students by asking it in exams…! Ya Rahman! I wish I could just … Ugh! 

“What is it Gudi dear? Are you alright?” Ammi asked, looking at my face in concern. She must have caught my dark, scowling look.

“Nothing Ammiji. It’s just this,” I grimaced, pointing at the text. “I don’t like it.”

“Why Gudi, I thought English was your favourite subject… finding it difficult to understand, huh?” Ammi sympathized, her anger completely forgotten.

No matter what subject it is, if you want sympathy, Ammi won’t disappoint you. Her answers would be something along these lines, ‘Ah yes my dear, but still these fractions and equations you see…’ or ‘what? No, no, they will ask you to dissect some dirty frog or cockroach…’ or ‘yeah I have never liked those chemical reactions or whatever…’or ‘oh, just remember those names and dates dear and write your own story, who is going to read each and every line?’

I saw her only once disagreeing with some relative of ours, and that too about learning the Urdu language. ‘Well, what I still say is, Urdu is one of the easiest languages… how can she say so? Bring your daughter next time with you…’ and the next time, as promised Ammi taught and explained it so easily that we began to wish she could do so with all our subjects too. Years have passed and it remains a wish.

 “English is alright Ammi, it’s this speech thing. For the whole day I have tried telling my mind that it is only some three pages long and not a big deal at all, still when I try to study it after a break it is worse than before.” I said, slamming the book shut. Only Allah knows what will happen tomorrow at the exam.

“Boring huh?” Didi asked, with a sympathetic smile.

“Very” I sighed.

“Leave it in choice dear.” Ammi comforted.

“Well that’s what I decided to do to that other three Ammiji. They are worse than this one, if that can be possible.” I made a face remembering them.

Didi laughed. “I can never understand how you choose Literature Gudi… yeah you like English and all that, but still those inhumanly long dramas, tedious speeches, cryptic things called poetry and once upon a time’s boring novels… Ya Allah!” She shuddered in horror, as if she would rather jump from the Mt.Everest than study them.   

“Each to their own tastes dear. Who would have thought you would study about all those mad and crazy persons? Yet there! You took it despite all our protest. And I hope they keep you sane till you complete it.” Ammi said in what appeared to be an optimistic manner.

Both Didi and I laughed at that. Only Ammi could think of saying such things about one of the most interesting subject I have ever come across, Human psychology. Didi loved studying it just as I loved my course Literature. It was a great blessing of Allah (Glorified and Exalted is He) that our parents were and still are Alhamdulillah wonderful supporters in all the courses we choose and never pressure us to do beyond our capacities. For I have seen many who struggle with subjects and courses they really hate but still took because of society’s or their own parents compulsion. May Rahman help them succeed!

“I have got it!” Ahmed suddenly exclaimed, looking towards me.

“What? The lost key to the secret garden?” Didi joked grinning, making us all smile.

“No Di, But you will be the first to know when I find it… the digging is in great progress, the map said near the dancing nymph’s fountain, right?” Ahmed asked seriously.

Among us three, I don’t know who laughed the hardest.

“Don’t talk nonsense children.” Ammi softly chided.

“Ya Allah, Ahmed! From where did the dancing nymph come in?” Didi asked, wiping her eyes.

“Dunno,” He shrugged with a grin. “Read it in some book I think.”

“But what was that you wanted to say?” I asked him, referring to his earlier remark.

“About my most favourite Surah, that is what you asked Di? I think it is Surah Vazzuha.” He said, recalling with some effort.

“You mean Surah Zuha? But you like it only for reciting in Qirath Ahmed, I asked you your most favourite, like you would love to read it at all times.” I explained, suppressing a smile because I knew Didi was giving me an oh-she-has-started-again look.

“Like I would love to read it again and again?” Ahmed mumbled to himself. “Why, then it is Surah Rahman Di.” He said brightly, as if he had just remembered something very important.

Moreover, yeah I grinned like one gone completely crazy as I repeatedly said to Ahmed, “But this is awesome, you like Surah Ar-Rahman? Why didn’t you say so before? How come I didn’t know about it…?” He did not reply, just blinked and stared as if his mind was unable to comprehend such volley of questions.  

 Some time later when he had finally answered all of them (No, I did not pester him, Still don’t listen to Didi if she tells otherwise), I turned and whispered to her, “See Di not everybody is like you. Many have favourite Surahs.”

She rolled her eyes but did not say anything as Ammi was still with us. It was not as if we did not speak freely in front of her; it was just our old habit of showing respect and not teasing each other that much in front of parents as we do so when we are alone.  

“This is the tomorrow’s menu for breakfast and lunch, whoever doesn’t like it can say so now.” Ammi said, looking at Ahmed who in turn looked at everywhere but her.

Ammi read the menu from a tiny notebook which we call the ‘Ammi’s note’, every thing which has to be remembered the next day usually went down in it. We all agreed to the menu thing, mostly we do because it did not matter to us what we ate during the weekdays, for we are always in a rush or busy about this or that. It was only during weekends we leisurely suggested various dishes and that too only we women folk discuss it, while Abba and Ahmed merely assent.

 “Why didn’t you tell yesterday that you didn’t like today’s menu Ahmed?” Ammi continued, still looking at him. Most probably, the anger was still there.

He mumbled something about not wanting to give trouble, which immediately softened Ammi’s glare.

“But dear who said it is trouble? It troubles me only when my children don’t speak about their likes and dislikes, and in the end it comes to throwing food away,” She sighed. “Don’t do so again and speak out when we decide the menu.” Ammi added with her soft smile. That gesture of course changed everything and Ahmed knowing that he was forgiven for now, readily smiled back. I wonder sometimes how much power such small emotions like a frown or a smile contains, especially from your elders. One smile from them is enough to make the completely tensed atmosphere go back from charged to normal.

Ammi began to talk him about something else while Didi went to study for her own exam. I took my book again and started coaxing my mind that it was only a speech after all…

*****

“Chotu, Chotu, Chotu.” I murmured, cuddling our home’s little bundle of joy, or fur to be precise.

“Meow, Meow, Meow.” He replied, pushing back my face with his soft, pink paws.

“Bad boy…! Where did you go the whole day?” I asked, looking into his bright, fire-like eyes.

When Abbu first brought him some months ago, I had exclaimed, “How cute Masha Allah! Didi look at his eyes, how strange they are, just like leaping flames.”

She had looked at him and spoiled the whole thing by remarking, “Yeah, just like the eyes of a drunkard.”

Yet more than all of us, he prefers her first and she loves him most.

I sat down on our bed and he curled into a soft ball on my lap, just looking at him can make you smile, Masha Allah! Only babies and pets can make you smile and grin like mad without any apparent reason. I patted his head as he closed his eyes with a content sigh.

“Our little tummy is full, huh?” I asked, softly stroking his fur. He replied by switching on his purring device.

I smiled and kissed his forehead, “So tell me Chotu dear, which is your most favourite Surah?”

Only Allah knows why I asked that to him, for it had slipped unconsciously from my mouth. Maybe asking a question repeatedly to almost everybody makes your mind repeat it without your command.

“Definitely not yours.” Didi said, entering the room. She probably heard my question to Chotu.

I glared at her. “You cannot say so Didi, don’t listen to her Chotu dear, I know you have a favourite… tell me which it is?” I said, taking his face in my palm.

He looked at me, then looked at Didi and said… well, yeah, nothing.

“There! That is my Chotu; just like me, he likes the whole Qur’an too.” Didi grinned, patting his head.

“Of course he does, but he has a favourite Surah too.” I continued my point serenely, looking at his half closed eyes.

“If you say so Gudi.” Didi replied in a mild tone, making me immediately look at her. She loves to tease me through arguing and now when she easily accepted my statement, I got the uneasy feeling that something was wrong and I was right.

There she stood, armed with many pillows ready to fling at me. Matters would not have turned that serious if she had not taken my sea blue one. However, she did despite my protest and so…

After five minutes, the whole room was in complete chaos. I was crouching behind our sofa with a pile of various odd things while Didi was hiding behind the bedstead with her pillow lot; we both cautiously glanced from behind our respective places before things and pillows flew all over the room. I got hit twice by the fluffy pillows while Didi tried her best to avoid the different things which I aimed towards her. Don't get me wrong, some serious reactions occur if some one deliberetely abducts my precious sea blue possession in my presence. 

And Chotu? All his sleep had vanished amidst our bedlam, he was galloping, and chasing what not, with his tail held high in the air.

“Er… sorry to disturb this…er…war, what I mean is, weird way of cleaning… children, but I want to know who took the USB drive from my desk, I really need it now.” Abba spoke from the doorway, his twinkling eyes taking in all the mess while his lips twitched to form a smile.

We both stood up blushing, and tried to appear nonchalant which was of course impossible after such behavior.

It took another five minutes to find the USB drive, which was All Praise to Rahman, safe and sound. Abba had not said anything while we searched it in the mess, but before leaving, he spoke,

“Sometimes when I drop you both at college girls I have this regretful feeling that both my little daughters have grown so big, but at times like these I wonder…”

“Abbu!” We both chorused and stopped him from completing the sentence.

He laughed. “What I was going to say was…”

“Abbu, isn’t that your mobile ringing?” Didi interrupted in a serious manner.

He grinned at her, twinkling. “Is it so? I thought it was your Ammi calling you both because of the noise you had been making. ”

We all laughed, for it is a known thing that Ammi rarely interferes in our so-called fights. “But did she really call us Abbu?” Didi asked in concern.

“No dear,” Abba shook his head. “But she had been calling your brother. Where is that guy? I didn’t see him since I came home.”

“Still in the Masjid probably.” I replied, while trying to set the room in some sort of order.

“In the Masjid huh? You want me to believe that? We will see whether it is true, tell your Ammi to ask the reason for his lateness when he arrives. I have work to finish.” He said and was about to leave when he saw Chotu playing with some papers near the bed.

“Why, when did my little son came back?” He asked with his warm smile, bending down to stroke his head.

Chotu turned to look at Abba, with a piece of torn paper in his mouth.

“Ya Allah Gudi! Isn’t that your stories or whatever you are always writing?” Didi cried, quickly trying to collect all the scattered papers.

Abba exclaimed, “Why do you keep your college notes lying like this girls, see he has already torn one.” He tried to pry it carefully from his mouth, but Chotu seemed not to like it. Glaring at Abba, he went under the bed. He always has this sly notion that under the bed is a very safe place coz humans rarely come there. When he brings his hunt (mice or lizards of course, yuk! I know) he directly goes under the bed to feast or whatever, don't ask me to go into detail. Also the cleaning after that, Ya Allah! It is enough to break one's back.

“It is alright Abbu, they are not college ones.” I assured him.

 “Here have them.” Didi said, trying to stuff the papers back in their folder, which somehow had got opened in the chaos.

I took it and sat on the bed to arrange them properly as Abba left saying to Didi to try taking the torn paper from Chotu.

After some minutes of struggling, I had all the papers to my satisfaction. When I looked up, I saw Didi sitting on the sofa and staring as if in shock at a little piece of paper, while Chotu sat curled up in her lap, contently licking his pink paws.

“Di what’s wrong?” I asked, looking at her strange expression. She did not reply but glanced at me and again looked back at the paper. This was becoming odd.

“Didi?” I got up and went near her.

She handed me the piece of paper and said with a sudden beautiful smile, “Gudi, have I ever told you that you are always right?”

I laughed. “Sometimes yeah, Why?”

“Read what is written in that torn piece which I took from Chotu.” She urged.

I read it and laughed again, unbelievingly. “But Didi this is wonderful Masha Allah, I know I wrote it as a title for my chapter but changed it later, did you really take this from Chotu?” I asked, with my heart singing blithely.

She gave her usual grin, “Yeah, but it was just luck Gudi.”

“And all luck comes from Allah Di.” I replied, beaming. Yet I felt the tears sting the back of my eyes. Blinking the tears and smiling like a love struck fool who knows not whether to laugh or cry when his beloved notices, I went to our window and pushed back the curtains to thank Him, to try to say something, anything. The night sky was a deep, dark blue studded with millions of shining stars, winking and twinkling happily in praise of the Most Gracious Lord. I looked at the little piece of paper again whose text seemed to fill my heart with so much happiness that it burst out crying,

 O Rahman! I know I can never do, yet how I wish I could thank Thee!

My eyes searched the dark heavens with deep yearning and I knew and felt that He was watching me. I suddenly smiled, remembering the verse from Surah Al Baqarah,

“And those who believe have intense love for Allah.”

 How true indeed! O Most Gracious Allah, Thou alone is always the best. The best of all Friends and the best of all Guides.

The paper that Chotu had torn into pieces had been blank except the title, which I had scribbled long ago when I first began to write for Wattpad. The piece of torn paper which I held in my hand was like a sign from the Most Gracious Allah Himself, for it clearly contained without any damage or tear the heading in bold which was,

‘My Most Favourite Surah, Ar-Rahman!’

*****

    Glossary:

Asma ul Husna- Ninety-nine most beautiful names of Almighty Allah.

Surah- Chapter. There are totally 114 Surahs in the Qur’an of various lengths.

*****

A/N:

And, ah Dear reader, did you think I would end without asking You the famous question? So Vote or Comment and tell me, for I would love to know,

‘Which is your most favourite Surah?’ ;)

Or if you too like Didi still think it is a silly question, then comment and tell me so, I would love to know that too :)

                                                   With Duas and Salaam (Prayers and Peace),

                                                                                 abdur Rahman:)