At the airport exit, Darsh and Advay were parting ways.
Darsh suggested with a smile, “Here, I am Danish. I will check the entry permit for the mosque. AD, you take both these girls to the hotel and yes, no room for me.”
Pooja queried, “Where will you stay then?”
Danish smiled, “At the mosque itself. There’s a place there”.
Everybody was baffled. “Why not at the hotel? We are not poor, after all!”
Danish shrugged, “In a way, I am! All my money can’t get Haider his healthy life back. Main Allah ki nemat maangane aaya hoon, toh mere paise ka rob kyun dikhaun?...... Everywhere I go, the worldly status comes with me. At least here, I want to let go of my attachment to materialistic comfort. Allah ki panaah mein aaya hoon toh usne diyehue ghar mein rahoonga….. jameen pe letkar upar taaron ka chat dekhana bahot khubsoorat hota hai.”
Chandni offered, “Then, let us also come with you, we shall do the same.”
“No CD, this is unique to every person. You can’t follow mine and expect the same experience. You will have to find your own way to connect to God.” Danish had wisdom in his words, “You are coming here for the first time so you don’t know the area. Plus being a woman, you’ll need some privacy. It’s OK, Allah doesn’t need unnecessary sacrifice, he only sees your heart. So, stay wherever AD puts you up.”
Nobody could argue with that.
At the Oberoi hotel, Advay asked for one double room with an extra person at the counter. Chandni wondered for a moment but refrained to ask thinking that perhaps he didn’t want to spend unnecessary money.
Pooja thought perhaps Bhaiyya didn’t want her to be alone in a new place. Suddenly she felt like the third wheel between the husband and wife.
“Maybe I should have waited back and prayed with Naani. Yahaan sab kuchh paraya lagega.”
“Why so? Usse Bhagwan kaho, Allah Kaho, God kaho, hai toh ek hi. Religion bane the language ke hisaab se har ek ko uss upari shakti ka ehsaas ho iss liye. Vakt gujarate, hum paraaye ho gaye aur beech mein deewarein daal dee. Hum yahaan aye hain, kyunki Haider yaha pe relate kar sakata hai….. Phir parayapan kaisa, Allah tumhara dil dekhega, jaat paat nahi.” Advay explained from his heart.
“Par tum dono ke beech mein main?” Pooja clarified her stance.
“Arre voh room maine tum dono ke liye lee hain, main aur DD toh aate jaate rahenge. Jaldi taiyyar ho jaate hain. Tum dono ko sar dhakana padega.” Advay clarified hastily and proceeded to shower.
Having finished his ablutions early, Danish took the chance to visit the mosque immediately. He followed the protocol to enter with right foot and recited,
Bismillaah wa’l-salaatuwa’l-salaam ‘ala Rasoolillaah. Allaahumma aftah li abwaab rahmatika”
He knew everybody needed this prayer yet at this moment he truly needed it the most.
In the name of Allaah, and peace and blessings be upon the Messenger of Allaah. O Allaah, open to me the gates of Your mercy.
Inside he recited the prayer recording it in his voice and sent it to Advay along with other instructions. Both ladies would use Bab Sultan Abdulmejid Doors located on the western façade at the very north end. They could pray in their designated area. Advay would join him in the Masjid-an-nabawi-madeenah.
Advay immediately passed on all instructions in detail to Chandni and Pooja.
“Everybody else will be doing namaaz and we don’t know how to.” Chandni was worried.
“Matha jameen pe tekana toh dono mein common hai. Voh kar lena.” Advay appeased her worry, “And why do you look so worried? Didn’t you explain rituals to foreign visitors in Shiv Mandir in Allahabad? Someone here will show you what to do. Whatever you do, comes back to you. You have done good always, then here surely someone will help you. Stop worrying.”
Having passed all instructions, Danish came down the steps of the masjid to enter the prayer area.
He completed the prayers as per namaaz rituals. His heart beseeched, “Haider aapka bada nek banda hai. Uski Ammi ki amaanat hai voh humaare paas. Uss par toh aapki nemat hogi hi, par main andha uss nemat ki raah dekh nahi paa raha. Aapki duaonse, bas kissi taraha, kissi bhi davaai se ya phir mere treatment se Haider kitabiyat theek ho jaaye. Usse apni inaayat se nawaajiye, e paravardigaar!”
Back in Paris, it was early morning and Naani went to the Pooja Mandir for prayers and was shocked to see Miku doing Pooja arrangements same as Chandni or pooja would do.
“Arre Miku Beta, tu itani jaldi? Tu toh nahata bhi nahi itni jaldi!” Naani was worried.
Miku walked to her with a broad smile hugging her, “Good Morning, Naani. Main naha-dhoke aaya hoon……. Aapne kaha na, Raat bairan hai, toh gehari neend nahi aayee…… Just check whether everything is as per your needs. I tried my best.” Miku scrutinised his arrangements once again.
Naani smiled, “Sach mein tu Sayana bachcha hai. Aur man se kiya hai toh sab kuchh theek hi rahega. Chal pooja shuru karate hain.”
Both together completed the regular pooja. Naani was about to start Shiv linga Abhishek, when Miku offered, “Let me check on Adi once and call Shikha as well.” Miku left to call Shikha and just then Shilpa arrived followed by Murali.
Shikha reluctantly woke up and Miku updated her about Haider's deteriorating health and that Advay Chandni, Darsh Pooja had all left for Madinah while Naani and the rest of the family were doing Mahamrityunjay Mantra Jaap here. Shikha’s brow crunched with an irritated frown. These were the kinds of responsibilities that Mihir warned her against, from time to time whenever the topic crept up in their conversations. Though, initially she had been naïve and hence enthusiastic about Miku’s taking up regular Mahant duties, she was herself rapidly getting weary of it. She wasn’t much connected with Haider and she would have preferred having Miku to herself when his favourite Bhaiyya and Bhabhi were not around.
“You go ahead, I’ll join later.” She managed her excuse.
Naani first wrote down the entire mantra for everybody’s benefit and then explained the meaning.
ॐ त्र्य॑म्बकं यजामहे सु॒गन्धिं॑ पुष्टि॒वर्ध॑नम् ।
उ॒र्वा॒रु॒कमि॑व॒बन्ध॑नान् मृ॒त्योर्मु॑क्षीय॒ माऽमृता॑॑त् ।।[5]
oṃ tryámbakaṃ yajāmahesugandhíṃ puṣṭi-vardhánam
urvārukam íva bandhánān mṛtyor mukṣīya mā 'mṛtā́t
This is the moksha mantra which gives longevity and freedom from the fear of death. It invokes the power of Shivji. The literal meaning is:
We meditate on the three-eyed God who keeps increasing the fragrance. The way a ripened cucumber falls off effortlessly from its stem, similarly please free me from death and its fear and give me amrit.
Shiva is the God of death, destruction and transformation. Being three-eyed he represents the power of spiritual knowledge and wisdom beyond the physical realm. He represents the cycle of life and death in which your soul remains immortal. This Mantra invokes the power to transform negativity into positive energies and gives liberation from ignorance, untruth and death, for all of immortality.
Everybody listened intently. Miku queried, “Naani, isn’t Shivji sometimes seated in meditation and sometimes in the state of Tandav, the cosmic dance?”
Naani smiled, “Oh yes, Miku! Shivji is the great Yogi. Let us start the jaap now turn by turn as one wishes. I will start first on this Akshmaala of mine.”
Shilpa enquired, “Naani, can we also recite with you for practice?”
“Oh yes! You can. While doing the mantra jaap you can read it out and if it still becomes difficult to recite then simply say Om Namaha Shivaay.” Naani appeased Shilpa’s worry.
The mantra Jaap started.
In the Prophet’s Mosque, Advay had joined Danish and sat praying silently, “Oh God, I have gone through the pain of having lost my younger brother for a very long time. Haider is like a younger brother to Danish. Please, God, don’t make him suffer the pain same as mine. Rather do not give such pain to anybody in this universe. Please make Haider’s health okay. With your grace, let Danish be your medium to bless Haider with good health and long life.”
Some prayer groups sat nearby singing praises to Allah. Whatever religion it might be, Hindu or Muslim or Christian, the singing remains common. It’s the basic connection of music with humanity. The thoughts reminded Advay of his Maa’s bhajans almost every evening in the Mandir. Her heart so very pure ……… her singing reflected her soul connecting all devotees to the Lord ….. suddenly he was transported to another reality where his mother stood smiling in front of him.
‘Maa, aap jaanati ho na, Miku ab mere paas hai, mere saath hai….. nanhasa natkhat Miku ab bada ho gaya hai….bade bade kaam karne lagaa hai….. Aur Maa, Chandni bhi ab mere saath hai……Haan Maa, Dev-Chandu ab ek hain.’
Tears flowed down his eyes unhindered, his throat choking with crowded emotions. There was so much he wanted to share; he didn’t know where to start. Suddenly, a caring hand fell on his shoulders giving him courage to hold up. Advay looked up to find an unknown old man. Some soul who had felt his pain perhaps. Advay smiled at him and tried getting up but the man stopped him and sat down himself taking support of Advay’s shoulder. Danish looked at the old man and smiled warmly, but then his eyes fell on Advay’s tear-stained cheeks and his expression grew anxious. He knew Advay was having the same memories, back from old times but now times had changed. He pressed Advay’s hand warmly telling him he wasn’t alone.
Somebody from the prayer group looked at them and recognised Danish. He invited Danish to join the group and handed a guitar to him. Another prayer group member handed him a bandana. Danish tied it around his head and sat down with the guitar joining the song.
Ya Nizamuddin Auliya, Ya Nizamuddin Salqa (Oh Ruler of the Saints, Oh Ruler of the crestfallen)
Kadam Badhaa Le, Hadon Ko Mitaa Le,
Aaja Khaalipan Mein Pee Ka Ghar Tera,
Tere Bin Khaali Aaja, Khalipan Mein
Oooooo... Oooooo...
Rangreza
Ho... Rang-Rezaaaa...
Kun Faya Kun ((HE said) beand it is!)
Kun Faya Kun
Jab Kahin Pe Kuch Nahi BhiNahi Tha
Wahi Tha Wahi Tha Wahi ThaWahi Tha
Woh Jo Mujh Mein Samaya
Woh Jo Tujh Mein Samaya
Maula Wahi Wahi Maaya
Advay was listening intently trying to imbibe the meaning of the song. It hit him that the concept of God was the same across all religions. He was the Creator! In Hinduism, as well, Maha Maya was herself the Adi Shakti, the eternal energy.
The song continued......
Kun Faya Kun
Kun Faya Kun
Sadaq allahul-Alliyul-Azeem( The truth is Allah, The Sublime, The Magnificent)
Rangreza Rang Mera Tan Mera Man,
Le Le Rangaayi Chaahe Tan Chaahe Man
The man signalled to Danish and Danish continued the song
Sajra Savera Mere Tan Barse (The morning showers rain on me as blessings)
Kajra Andhera Teri Jalti Lau (there’s the darkness of night in my soul but your divinity shines )
Sajra Savera Mere Tan Barse
Kajra Andhera Teri Jalti Lau
Katra Mila Jo Tere Dar Par Se ( If only I could get a drop of your blessing…)
O Maula... Maula... Aaa...
Kun Faya Kun
Kun Faya Kun
Advay was completely moved by the raw vulnerability in Danish’s voice. He could completely relate to what Danish was singing. Though Chandni had illuminated his heart, there was still a remnant dark core that would lighten up only when the heavens blessed him. And he didn’t know when and in what form that blessing would come. At this moment, the only exigent blessing needed was for Haider’s life.
Danish was totally involved in the prayer singing. After the song, he sat behind the group, reflecting in his own mind about the prayer verse. It was Allah alone who could save Haider’s life. Whatever happened would be his will. He was ready to pledge his own life for Haider’s life. The question was how would he. He looked up at the heavens as he always did whenever he was distraught and couldn’t find a way. It was his way of connecting with his Ammi.
“Ammi, aap toh vahaan Khuda ke paas ho na…… Aur Haider toh aapka bahot laadla hai….. Uski Ammi ko aapne vachan diya tha ki Haider ko uski poori jindagi bhar sambhalenge........ AurAapne baba se vachan liya tha ki yeh jimmedari main aur baba Nibhayenge..... Par dekhiye na Ammi, aaj Haider ki Jindagi ki laun bujhane lagi hai….. Khuda se kahiye, usse roshan kare, apni hifajat mein le, Ammi…… Nahin toh main aapko kya muh dikhaunga…. Ammi aapka beta iss haar ke baad jee na sakega, Ammi. Main bas uski jindagi ki duaan maangata hoon…. Baaki kuchh bhi nahi….. Meri khaali jholi mein Haider ki Jindagi daal dijiye.”
Danish was so very true in his heart that genuinely Ammi heard his plea in the heavens. Suddenly somebody threw gulaal in the air in reverence. Danish felt a divine presence around him as if his Ammi’s chunar was all around him, loving him purely. His heart implored to the divinity.
O jheena..jheena..jheena re, Udda gulaal
Maahi teri chunariya lehrayi..
Rang teri reet ka, Rang teri preet ka
Rang teri jeet ka hai layi..Layi..layi..
Somehow, in that moment, Danish felt the same assurance that Naani had given him. It would take time; but if this was a battle against death, this time he would win…….. He needed his Ammi’s love, he could conquer every battle……. He remembered the questioning eyes of the treatment team…. It was a clinical trial and nobody would blame him for anything. Yet the question in their eyes plagued him all the time.
Jab jab mujhpe hai utha sawaal, Maahi teri chunariya lehrayi
Jag se haara nahi main, Khudse haara hoon maa
Ek din chamkunga lekin, Tera sitara hoon maa
It was a heavenly feeling…..A promise he was making to himself…… or was it his Ammi asking the promise again? He determined to do everything that he was doing even better than it had ever been done before…. Going beyond the box…. Excelling….. That’s what Ammi had always taught him….. Her words reverberated in his ears.
‘Excellence is not an achievement, Son. It’s an aspiration, an attitude, a pursuit, a hope….. a way of life… to always pursue higher standards!’
Turn by turn having completed 1001 recitations of Maha Mrityunjay Mantra the family was now resting a bit with a cup of tea. Miku was busy texting on his mobile.
“Miku, your tea is getting cold. What are you so busy with?” Naani enquired.
“I am chatting with Bhabhi, Naani. She is doing what she hasn’t done before, going to a masjid and I am doing what I have never done before, reciting Maha Mrityunjay mantra.” Miku laughed.
Naani smiled thinking in her mind that doing things never done before......going beyond yourself was what was reaching God, The Ultimate.
Shikha had just then arrived at the table and started with her tea. “Miku, I need to go shopping?”
Miku turned away from the phone and looked at her, “What for? We just yesterday or so did all the shopping, didn’t we?”
“We bought all Westerns; I need something traditional.” Shikha justified.
“Why do you need traditional now and didn’t you carry any from India? Where will I find a traditional clothes shop here in Paris?” Miku was completely perplexed. “And after this, I want to join Naani back in jaap.”
Naani smiled, “It’s OK, Miku. You take her out.”
Miku stared quizzically at Naani, “I don’t understand, Naani. Before getting up from Jaap, you had warned me that we were going back again after the break and now you’re, OK?”
Naani’s smile grew wider, “The day you understand a complexity called woman, tere saare jaap ho jaayenge. You go with Shikha, you can join later.”
Naani had the wisdom of her age. She knew Shikha’s sudden demand had erupted because Miku’s connection with Bhabhi remained even while she was away. Naani was sensing competition in Shikha. She prayed to God to give wisdom to everybody for she was not sure when this competition would turn into battle.
Exactly as Dev had mentioned, a lady had helped Chandni and Pooja to do the rituals in Masjid. Both had prayed and come out to meet their menfolk. Chandni was very happy to read Miku’s messages. He was taking his steps towards adopting the mahant duties.
“Vaha sab log Mrityunjay jaap kar rahe hain aur yahaan hum sab ek saath masjid mein pray kar rahe hain. Jab sachche dilon se fariyaad nikalati hai, toh khudaai bhi uske saamne jhuk jaati hai. Dekhana, Haider bilkul theek hoga.”
As she said the words, Danish came smiling from behind and she looked at him smiling.
“Aameen!” Danish and Pooja said in unison.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Darsh-Danish and Dev-Advay ...... truly great friends.....each has his own thought process, yet both connect to divinity..... Danish gives up his attachment to materialistic pleasures..... Dev advises to just bow down irrespective of your religion.
Naani has the wisdom of age...... Wise readers want to guess about Shikha?...... Aage chal kar kya rang aayenge iss Prem katha mein?
I have done a lot of research on Madinah so as to not violate any Muslim reader's feelings. If there's any mistake, please do forgive me.
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