Namal {COMPLETED} (English Translation) By Nimra Ahmed

Chpt 22: Beloved Son!

Once, a king boarded a boat, accompanied by a foreign slave. The slave had never seen a river before, nor experienced the discomfort of a boat. He began to cry and tremble, his body shaking. This annoyed the king greatly, as his delicate nature couldn't tolerate such things. No one could think of a solution.

On the boat was a wise man who spoke to the king, "If you permit, I can quiet him down in my own way." The king agreed, saying, "I would be most grateful."

Following the wise man's instructions, the people threw the slave into the river. The slave took a few gulps of water, then they grabbed him by the hair and pulled him back to the boat.

The slave clung tightly to the side of the boat, and once he was back inside, he sat quietly in a corner.

He sat down and found peace.

The king was astonished and asked, "What wisdom was there in this act?" The wise man replied, "The slave had never appreciated the safety of the boat before. Only those who experience hardship can truly value peace."

The pain of drowning-

something he had never known.

"Oh, one who is full, you cannot appreciate

a simple loaf of bread."

What seems unpleasant to you may be beneficial to me;

for the Houris of Paradise,

A'raf is like Hell.

And to those in Hell,

A'raf is like Paradise.

(According to one interpretation, A'raf is the space between Heaven and Hell, where those whose good and bad deeds are equal will stand.)

(A story by Saadi from the book Gulistan-e-Saadi)

The sun in the sky spread a net of golden rays over the tops of apple trees. The green vines of the creeper plant were wilting in the scorching sunlight, even though morning hadn't yet fully faded.

From the kitchen window, if one peeked through the blinds' panels, they could see the round table around which the two sat. Zumar, wearing a black coat with her curly hair half-tied, was sipping tea, watching Saadi intently, who sat somewhat withdrawn. Dressed in a deep green kurta with freshly brushed wet hair, he appeared refreshed and prepared, yet his eyes carried a sadness. Absent-mindedly, he traced circles along the rim of his cup. Zumar called out softly, "Saadi!"

Startled, he looked up at her.

"Today, you'll be standing in the witness box, and you'll be cross-examined. Are you nervous?"

"No." He shook his head in denial.

"When you decided to start this legal battle, I told you this moment would come. You would have to stand in the witness box. First, I'll ask you questions, then he'll cross-examine you. How you present yourself is up to you."

"I'm fine. And I'll stay fine." He smiled slightly. "For any question that's tough to answer, just say you don't remember. For any question where you can't tell the truth, say, 'As I mentioned in my interview...' and then repeat the line from your interview."

"That would be deception, wouldn't it? I don't know what difference will remain between me and Hashim if we both lie." He spoke thoughtfully.

"Careful choice of words isn't considered lying in law. To cleanse society of people like these, we have to choose from the lesser evils," she replied.

"Right! It's a comforting thought, I'll give it that." He nodded, taking a deep breath. "And what if he asks me something I haven't even told you?"

Zumar looked into his hazel eyes for a few moments. "What haven't you told me?"