Simple Muslim Man

The Simple Routine

Imran's day began as it always did: at 4 a.m., with the faint buzz of his alarm clock sitting beside his bed. His room, while modest, was cozy, reflecting his calm and contented lifestyle. The bed was large and welcoming, with deep blue sheets tucked in neatly, though a few pillows were strewn about as if he had been wrestling with the idea of sleep. Around the room, books filled every available space. Some were neatly stacked on shelves, while others found their home on the floor in piles that spoke of a man constantly in pursuit of knowledge. 

Next to his bed was his large wooden desk, a centrepiece of his room, cluttered with papers, books, and a well-worn laptop. The desk faced the window, where he could look out across the park, with tall trees swaying gently and the calm waters of the pond reflecting the early morning sky. A small rock-like mountain in the middle of the pond always caught his eye; it gave him a sense of peace.

Imran's hand instinctively reached out to silence the alarm. "Alhamdulillah," he whispered, a grateful smile forming on his lips as he thanked Allah for allowing him to witness another day. For a moment, he lay there, savouring the quiet before the day began. The sound of leaves rustling in the park across his apartment filled the air.

After a moment of quiet reflection, Imran rose from his bed.

He moved to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, then proceeded to make wudu, the ritual ablution required for prayer. The cold water on his face sharpened his senses, bringing a sense of clarity and purpose to his morning. Once finished, he knelt down on his prayer rug in the middle of his room, and with deliberate movements, began his Tahajjud prayer. His heart filled with humility, remembering the days when he would rush through his prayers.

 Now, though, he relished these moments of quiet devotion, the world still asleep while he whispered his prayers to the Creator.

After completing his prayer, Imran took a moment to sit quietly, his hands raised in Dua, his heart speaking to Allah in gratitude and supplication. Then he moved to his wardrobe, picking out his neatly pressed Thobe for the prayer. He dressed simply but with care, making sure his appearance reflected the best of himself as he prepared to head out to the masjid.

The town of Magrady was still asleep as Imran stepped out of his apartment building, a towering structure that housed many of the town's residents. He lived on the 15th floor, and most of the days he  would enjoy the sun slowly beginning to color the horizon. 

Magrady was a beautiful town, located near the coast, surrounded by rolling mountains that seemed to cradle it in a peaceful embrace. The town was known for its blend of natural beauty and a close-knit community, where everyone knew each other, and the streets felt safe, even late at night.

Green Park was one of the jewels of Magrady, a lush expanse of greenery that provided a tranquil space for the residents. In the center of the park stood a small pond, and just beyond it was Masjid Al-Huda, a simple yet beautiful masjid that served as the spiritual heart of the community. It had no extravagant decorations, just clean lines, and a peaceful atmosphere that invited reflection and worship.

As Imran walked toward the masjid, the early morning air was cool against his skin, and he breathed deeply, feeling the quiet serenity of the moment. The streets were empty, save for a few early risers heading to their morning routines. He arrived at the masjid just as the Fajr prayer was about to begin, joining his Muslim brothers as they lined up shoulder to shoulder, unified in their worship of Allah. The prayer was as always peaceful, and afterward, Imran sat quietly, reciting his morning Adhkar, remembering Allah with words of praise and supplication.