Aise is a loving mango farmer who regularly attends Et'hem Bey Mosque. Fawziya is known to get around. Read about how their lives are forever changed with just a brief encounter.
Aise had always loved beautiful Et'hem Bey Mosque with its small, enticing minbar. It was a place where he felt at ease.
He was an older gracious man and a creative chef.He had a big heart and a bigger work ethic. His friends saw him as a humble, rich mango farmer. Once, he saved up enough mangoes to make enough kulfi for all the children in the beautiful river village of Mauli. That's the kind heart that was inherited from Jaddati. "What wisdom can you find that is greater than kindness," she always asked. Aise missed his grandmother. She was determined and never failed to share her loving wisdom.
Aise walked over to the stained glass window and reflected on his serene surroundings. The sun flickered as the sound of the waves soothed him.
Suddenly, he saw something -rather someone- in the distance. It was the figure of Fawziya. Fawziya was a homeless nomad with a heavy heart and an opened ear. Her baby had fallen ill and they were hungry. Fawziya thought to go to the mosque to pray for a ray of sunlight.
Aise gulped. He was not prepared for Fawziya. He'd heard she was a tactless brute who had been scavenging the island looking for someone to be of refuge.
As Aise turned around in his usual awe of the temple, Fawziya had come inside. He could see the faint crooked smile on her face.
Fawziya saw Aise watching her approach the temple with her bantling. As she as taking off her shoes, in a quick & hushed tone she snarked, "I don't need anything from you. I've come to pray."
Aise looked at her even more puzzled as he was gathering his mat. His keffiyeh moved with the gentle breeze that swept through the shrine. "Fawziya, you don't get what you want in life. You get who you are," he replied.
They looked at each other with uneasy feelings. His nerves thrilled like throbbing violins. She was as sensitive as a broken barometer during an uphill hike in the Taurus Mountains.
"Come," he quickly demanded. She reluctantly obeyed as he led her outside the mihrab and into an adjacent room. He knew a place where she could feast and rest.
"I said I don't need anything," she repeated, avoiding eye contact. She was scared and knew what was said of her around the town. She feared people sought to kill her.
"It's the repetition of affirmations that leads to belief. You have needs. Satisfy them."
Fawziya was hungry and so was her child. She had no energy to nurse and did not fight Aise's lead. She walked 5 miles to the holy place hoping Allah had something for her.
As they approached the room, there was a strong aroma, slightly familiar to Fawziya. It was Aise's best dish. Mango Kulfi. He was preparing it for the congregation's monthly meal gathering. It was a favorite of the children. They loved getting their bellies full with all of the good meals made by all of the family chefs. They all got extremely excited when Aise's kulfi was made -especially mango kulfi. This time, it had been requested by Imam Hussain. The entire congregation was excited.
When Aise opened the door, Fawziya burst into tears. Not only was she overwhelmed with the beauty of the detailed calligraphy and the bright colors of the carpet, but she was happy she could feed her child and they could rest.
"Jazākallāh khair. Thank you. It is not true what they say; you did not grow haughty and vain with age. Instead, you've shown compassion. Allah yusallmak!"
Fawziya and her weanling ate and rested. As the sun was setting, Fawziya and her babe were awaken by the gentle chatter and footsteps from people entering the chapel for the Maghrib prayer. Aise had long gone. He'd left a note for her:
"Your character will eventually obliterate the lie they said about you. Wadaeaan al'an"
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