Mornings In Makkah (#wattys2018)

Mornings In Makkah (#wattys2018)

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In burning silence and endless desert, there is some movement upon the horizon. Moving shapes, appearing and disappearing in the shimmering light. It is a lonely caravan of three, slowly making their way along the dunes, sand crunching under their soles and the sun flaming above their heads. What could have brought them to these uninhabited lands? Bringing to life the Seerah of the final Messenger Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him) in a way never told before. This is a unique insight taking you into the past to actually live, breath and experiance what it might feel like to step back in time to the golden era of our Beloved Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him).
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On the wet sand beside the seashore, the strong, tall man was laying with a cigarette in his hand. His bike parked a few feet away from him. The environment there was serene and noiseless as no one was allowed then on the beach that he owned. It was not a big deal for a billionaire like him. He had a lot more than that. Wealth, power, the respect he had all of them but lacked the most important thing that couldn't be bought with money. He lacked inner peace. He inhaled the vinous smoke as the corner of his lips twitched in a sad smile. His eyes deceived him being moist and a lone tear slipped down his face on the sand. The sand sucked the water as soon as it fell on it, and he wondered if his pain disappeared in thin air like that. He breathed out a puff of smoke through his nose and mouth. Looking up at the sky with the sad smile plastered on his face he spoke up, "Why so hatred for me, ya Rab?" Miles away from him the girl with a cuddling baby in her arms uttered looking up at the sky, "I express my deep gratitude to You for sending this angel to me, Ya Rab."

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