In structure and in the story of life, DESTINY is a mirror. Because it makes you look at yourself as a human being and as a servant whose life is not under his own control. The LORD created the world and the creatures that live in it in different forms—those that exist physically, and those to whom He granted knowledge that He alone fully possesses. Yet, in all His creations, He made it clear to us that the HUMAN BEING is honored, especially when we reflect on the verses revealed in the Noble Qur’an.
This does not mean that His other creations are without importance—no. Rather, you, the human, were given this honor and were favored. If we look at Suratul Baqarah, Allah said to the angels that He would place a vicegerent (khalifa) on earth (Adam), and He commanded them to prostrate to him—showing the preference of mankind over the angels (a prostration of honor, not worship).
He did not leave us as one type of people only; He divided us into two genders: male and female. He made us black-skinned and white-skinned. He created us in different regions, and differentiated us into various religions. Even our languages are different—so much so that one person may speak all night while another does not understand a single word, even if he is being insulted.
And the differences do not end there. He enriched some with provision, others with wealth, some with knowledge, others with the gift of eloquence, or with the ability to work hard using the strength He granted them. Possessing any of these does not mean you are more honorable than another. For one may be rich in this world but rise poor in the Hereafter—poor in good deeds and deprived of a beautiful end. One may be poor in this world, yet rise in the Hereafter with immense wealth through deeds and a good destiny. One may be knowledgeable, yet that knowledge benefits him nothing in the Hereafter because he did not use it rightly with sincerity in this world. And one may be ignorant, yet attain a beautiful end because he harmed no one and did not follow a destructive path or act out of hypocrisy—by Allah’s mercy. This is but a small part of His mercy toward His servants.
Just as the world appears like a ball to the eyes, so too is the life of every human being—either in success or failure. When the ball is close to your eyes, it appears big; likewise, your problems, worries, and successes appear large in your sight and in your heart. But when you throw it far away, it becomes small. In the same way, when you believe that the LORD is the One who decrees and rewards, your worries, problems, and trials begin to look small—just like that distant ball.
The difference between the ball appearing big or small is measured by our minds. But the size of life’s trials and hardships is judged by our hearts and minds together.
Let us shorten this so that you understand exactly where our foundation is heading, so we do not waste time that is running and does not wait for anyone. What I want the reader to reflect on here is: What is life really? Who is man? What will he become one day? And what is his end at the end of life?
Believe it—within every life there is joy, trials, success, failure, challenges, a beginning, an end, things you did, and things you left behind. All of these are contained within this single life of yours, which is not in your control—just as you were not consulted when you were created, and you only later came to know who you are. Likewise, you are not consulted regarding the occurrence of those things mentioned above. For in all the blessings and mercy Allah grants you, there is none that you repay Him with money. Even worship—when you do it, you only benefit yourself; you neither decrease Him nor add anything to Him.
Therefore, let us go straight into this story titled “Beating the Water! The Cure for the Monster”, which is coming to you at this time. Let us perceive the lessons it offers us openly, so that we may understand, learn, be entertained, and be admonished when necessary…
•>•>•>•>•>•>•
17/5/20013
He was making slight movements and murmuring in his sleep—so much so that anyone close to him could hear everything. His hair was drenched with sweat on his forehead, even though it was not hot weather. In fact, a slight chill was blowing in, the kind of misty cold wind that carries dust and makes people shiver.
In surprise, the one beside him—holding a book and reading—stared at him for a moment, then reached out to touch him while calling his name, but there was no response. He set the book aside, his heart filling with confusion and fear. This was not the first time his friend and companion had fallen into this state during sleep. Sometimes it made one think he was possessed by jinn—but he was not. Whenever he fell into a deep sleep in recent years, it was rare for him to wake without entering this frightening dreamlike state, though he had never spoken about the dreams themselves. Still, his friend understood that it was a heavy and terrifying dream.
This time, he shook him vigorously, pulled off the army-green blanket covering him, and splashed water from the flask beside him onto his face. A deep breath followed, like someone returning from fainting. He exhaled, drew another breath, then slowly opened his eyes.
Masha Allah—what beautiful eyes, almost not those of a man. At first, his friend stared at him, then looked away and tried to sit up, leaning against the tent they were in. He wore an armless shirt that clung to his well-built body, army-green in color, and three-quarter military trousers. Even sitting down, one could tell he was a real soldier—strong and firm—one of those healthy, solid warriors capable of facing any chaos, especially those who display raw physical strength.
His friend shook his head and said with care,
“If only I could force that mouth of yours—which refuses to talk—to speak, I would, just to know what kind of dream you’ve been having all these years that puts you in this state. Zak-Shadow, look at how drenched in sweat you are, like someone on the battlefield—yet it’s only a dream. This troubles and frightens me.”
He shot him a slow, sharp glance with his eyes, then looked away. Without saying what he wanted to say, he stood up. Oh oh! So even among soldiers, there are soldiers and there are mere fighters. Anyone who looks at this man knows he truly deserves the name Zak-Shadow—even deserving the title Iliya, Son of the Mighty. For he was truly a warrior among warriors, one who could not be brought down except through a major coordinated operation.
Calmly and without noise, he slipped his black soft slippers on in front of the bed and headed toward the tent door, without looking back at his friend who sat there staring after him. He bent slightly and stepped outside.
A vast jungle—nothing but wilderness—with no sign of a town or human activity nearby. Only their military camp, consisting of just five tents. Three were very large, capable of housing many soldiers, while two were smaller. The three large tents and one small one were close together; the one Zak-Shadow emerged from stood apart under a massive, beautiful tree. The area was foggy and cold, limiting visibility even of nearby trees. The ground was grassy and pleasing to the eye, clean and open. Nearby lay a stretch of water, making it a gathering place for wild animals coming to drink—sometimes even dangerous ones. Yet the soldiers had set up camp there due to their courage.
(May Allah grant our soldiers health and long life wherever they are.)
There were not many soldiers outside—just a few patrolling with rifles, while others sat, seemingly on night watch duty.
Zak-Shadow’s appearance caused the soldier near the tent to snap to attention quickly, saluting him respectfully with his head bowed. Truly, Zak-Shadow was a lion among them—superior not only in rank but in presence. His beautiful eyes rested on the soldier for a few seconds, then moved to the others, whose scent of fear had already alerted them. They too snapped to attention, some even trembling. The fear of Zak-Shadow ran in the blood of every young soldier who knew him—not because he was cruel, but because he was firm, serious about his duty, truthful, and unwavering. For him, enforcing discipline or justice was easy.
After scanning them silently, he walked past with the confident stride of a man of strength. They slowly released their breath—for from the moment he appeared, everyone had held theirs, afraid of falling into trouble. Then they exchanged glances, gossiping silently with their eyes, for opening one’s mouth felt like speaking in a match with no spectators…
KIDA A RUWA BOOK COMPLETET
In structure and in the story of life, DESTINY is a mirror. Because it makes you look at yourself as a human being and as a servant whose life is not under his own control. The LORD created the world and the creatures that live in it in different forms—those that exist physically, and those to whom He granted knowledge that He alone fully possesses. Yet, in all His creations, He made it clear to us that the HUMAN BEING is honored, especially when we reflect on the verses revealed in the Noble Qur’an.
This does not mean that His other creations are without importance—no. Rather, you, the human, were given this honor and were favored. If we look at Suratul Baqarah, Allah said to the angels that He would place a vicegerent (khalifa) on earth (Adam), and He commanded them to prostrate to him—showing the preference of mankind over the angels (a prostration of honor, not worship).
He did not leave us as one type of people only; He divided us into two genders: male and female. He made us black-skinned and white-skinned. He created us in different regions, and differentiated us into various religions. Even our languages are different—so much so that one person may speak all night while another does not understand a single word, even if he is being insulted.
And the differences do not end there. He enriched some with provision, others with wealth, some with knowledge, others with the gift of eloquence, or with the ability to work hard using the strength He granted them. Possessing any of these does not mean you are more honorable than another. For one may be rich in this world but rise poor in the Hereafter—poor in good deeds and deprived of a beautiful end. One may be poor in this world, yet rise in the Hereafter with immense wealth through deeds and a good destiny. One may be knowledgeable, yet that knowledge benefits him nothing in the Hereafter because he did not use it rightly with sincerity in this world. And one may be ignorant, yet attain a beautiful end because he harmed no one and did not follow a destructive path or act out of hypocrisy—by Allah’s mercy. This is but a small part of His mercy toward His servants.
Just as the world appears like a ball to the eyes, so too is the life of every human being—either in success or failure. When the ball is close to your eyes, it appears big; likewise, your problems, worries, and successes appear large in your sight and in your heart. But when you throw it far away, it becomes small. In the same way, when you believe that the LORD is the One who decrees and rewards, your worries, problems, and trials begin to look small—just like that distant ball.
The difference between the ball appearing big or small is measured by our minds. But the size of life’s trials and hardships is judged by our hearts and minds together.
Let us shorten this so that you understand exactly where our foundation is heading, so we do not waste time that is running and does not wait for anyone. What I want the reader to reflect on here is: What is life really? Who is man? What will he become one day? And what is his end at the end of life?
Believe it—within every life there is joy, trials, success, failure, challenges, a beginning, an end, things you did, and things you left behind. All of these are contained within this single life of yours, which is not in your control—just as you were not consulted when you were created, and you only later came to know who you are. Likewise, you are not consulted regarding the occurrence of those things mentioned above. For in all the blessings and mercy Allah grants you, there is none that you repay Him with money. Even worship—when you do it, you only benefit yourself; you neither decrease Him nor add anything to Him.
Therefore, let us go straight into this story titled “Beating the Water! The Cure for the Monster”, which is coming to you at this time. Let us perceive the lessons it offers us openly, so that we may understand, learn, be entertained, and be admonished when necessary…
•>•>•>•>•>•>•
17/5/20013
He was making slight movements and murmuring in his sleep—so much so that anyone close to him could hear everything. His hair was drenched with sweat on his forehead, even though it was not hot weather. In fact, a slight chill was blowing in, the kind of misty cold wind that carries dust and makes people shiver.
In surprise, the one beside him—holding a book and reading—stared at him for a moment, then reached out to touch him while calling his name, but there was no response. He set the book aside, his heart filling with confusion and fear. This was not the first time his friend and companion had fallen into this state during sleep. Sometimes it made one think he was possessed by jinn—but he was not. Whenever he fell into a deep sleep in recent years, it was rare for him to wake without entering this frightening dreamlike state, though he had never spoken about the dreams themselves. Still, his friend understood that it was a heavy and terrifying dream.
This time, he shook him vigorously, pulled off the army-green blanket covering him, and splashed water from the flask beside him onto his face. A deep breath followed, like someone returning from fainting. He exhaled, drew another breath, then slowly opened his eyes.
Masha Allah—what beautiful eyes, almost not those of a man. At first, his friend stared at him, then looked away and tried to sit up, leaning against the tent they were in. He wore an armless shirt that clung to his well-built body, army-green in color, and three-quarter military trousers. Even sitting down, one could tell he was a real soldier—strong and firm—one of those healthy, solid warriors capable of facing any chaos, especially those who display raw physical strength.
His friend shook his head and said with care,
“If only I could force that mouth of yours—which refuses to talk—to speak, I would, just to know what kind of dream you’ve been having all these years that puts you in this state. Zak-Shadow, look at how drenched in sweat you are, like someone on the battlefield—yet it’s only a dream. This troubles and frightens me.”
He shot him a slow, sharp glance with his eyes, then looked away. Without saying what he wanted to say, he stood up. Oh oh! So even among soldiers, there are soldiers and there are mere fighters. Anyone who looks at this man knows he truly deserves the name Zak-Shadow—even deserving the title Iliya, Son of the Mighty. For he was truly a warrior among warriors, one who could not be brought down except through a major coordinated operation.
Calmly and without noise, he slipped his black soft slippers on in front of the bed and headed toward the tent door, without looking back at his friend who sat there staring after him. He bent slightly and stepped outside.
A vast jungle—nothing but wilderness—with no sign of a town or human activity nearby. Only their military camp, consisting of just five tents. Three were very large, capable of housing many soldiers, while two were smaller. The three large tents and one small one were close together; the one Zak-Shadow emerged from stood apart under a massive, beautiful tree. The area was foggy and cold, limiting visibility even of nearby trees. The ground was grassy and pleasing to the eye, clean and open. Nearby lay a stretch of water, making it a gathering place for wild animals coming to drink—sometimes even dangerous ones. Yet the soldiers had set up camp there due to their courage.
(May Allah grant our soldiers health and long life wherever they are.)
There were not many soldiers outside—just a few patrolling with rifles, while others sat, seemingly on night watch duty.
Zak-Shadow’s appearance caused the soldier near the tent to snap to attention quickly, saluting him respectfully with his head bowed. Truly, Zak-Shadow was a lion among them—superior not only in rank but in presence. His beautiful eyes rested on the soldier for a few seconds, then moved to the others, whose scent of fear had already alerted them. They too snapped to attention, some even trembling. The fear of Zak-Shadow ran in the blood of every young soldier who knew him—not because he was cruel, but because he was firm, serious about his duty, truthful, and unwavering. For him, enforcing discipline or justice was easy.
After scanning them silently, he walked past with the confident stride of a man of strength. They slowly released their breath—for from the moment he appeared, everyone had held theirs, afraid of falling into trouble. Then they exchanged glances, gossiping silently with their eyes, for opening one’s mouth felt like speaking in a match with no spectators…
✍