Zahid Nasir and the Wicked Whisperers

Chapter 9 - Purifying Fire

Zahid was inside his family's restaurant the night it had caught on fire. Smoke enveloped the room, thick and gray, as if it were a muddy soup. Orange flames flickered through the gray, dancing on all sides.

Everything the flames touched was being reduced to black and silver. He could do nothing while he watched the fire close in.

The flames hugged the walls, curling and rolling at the ceiling.

Even without any flames touching him, he felt like he was already on fire. It pressed in from all sides, even – somehow – from within. The pain became so intense that he screamed aloud.

"Allah!" he cried out. "Why are you letting this happen? Hamasail! Asheil! Help!"

His angels appeared in front of him, nearly camouflaged against the orange flames, but they did not move to help him.

"Be at peace and surrender," Asheil instructed. "This fire is sent as a blessing."

"How can this be a good thing?" Zahid complained.

It was then that the fire reached his feet. He screamed in fear and agony as the fire took over his whole body in mere seconds.

***

Zahid awoke in the bath that he had started before his dream. The water was ice cold now, but it offered only slight relief to his burning body. After returning home, the heat had only grown worse. And now, after the dream he had just had, He wondered if his fever was causing illusions.

He pulled himself out of the bath and dressed, only to collapse on his bed. Looking out the window, and seeing that it was already night.

He knew that his family was probably eating iftar downstairs. After a day of no food or water, he should have been starving. But his appetite was shot.

In the midst of his physical pain, his mind naturally focused on his mental and spiritual anguish.

First and foremost was Peter. He had closed himself off and now he would further that distance by moving away before the summer was over.

He thought of the Gina fiasco, too. He had alienated her – proving himself to be ruled by his ego and unkind thoughts. He deserved whatever hatred she had for him now.

And while he was at it, he was still mourning the loss of his sister. Tomorrow was Eid Al Fitr. They should be visiting her gravestone as part of the festivities. But who could say that her gravestone even still existed – somewhere in the wreckage of his home.

He felt like his whole life was one great story of losing. Losing his home, his friends, his sister.

O Allah! Why is this all happening to me? he questioned.

"Me, me, me," Asheil said, adding insult to Zahid's list of miseries. "Everything you have just thought has been about yourself."

"Pray to Allah, Al-Mutakabbir," Hamasail said. "The Majestic One Who will purify your ego."

Zahid was reluctant, but had to admit that his mala'ikah were right. Perhaps that was why all this was happening – to purify him of his ego and his pride.

So although he was tired and depressed, he forced himself to pray, "O Allah, You are Al-Mutakabbir. Please purify my ego."

In an instant, his issues didn't seem so dire.

If Allah truly was taking everything from him, then Zahid would trust that there was a deeper purpose. He would embrace the heat and the pain and the heartache. He would choose to rely on Allah alone.