Companion of Last Year.

 

Title: "Companion of Last Year"

:

 Last year, I was very ill. That's why I couldn't observe fasting, which worried me a lot. But this time, when I go to Pakistan, I will fast, Insha'Allah," she said, breaking the silence. Wearing a new, crisply ironed outfit that seemed to have come from nowhere, she didn't resemble the village girl at all.

"If scratching is your good intention, then see, this time you must surely observe fasting," Mohini reassured her.

"I was twelve years old, Mohini when I started observing fasting regularly. Circumstances and events were cruel, and the parents of the village's young girl, Noshi, passed away, leaving her with skeptical relatives. Then, at a young age, she cleaned the false utensils of people and cleared the dirt from the homes. That fair complexion that was once there disappeared completely. So, the praised village girl turned into a scorned one," she spoke, skillfully removing makeup residues with a cotton pad.

Mohini had previously heard Noshi's story multiple times. In the foreign land where she was a stranger but held the closest place in her heart, it was a story that resonated deeply and transcended religion. She listened to this tragic tale each time as if she were hearing it for the first time.

"Mohini, for what reason does the world turn out to be so thoughtful to a vagrant?":

"Since they see well that there is no asylum behind them: So, people start taking advantage of an orphan's vulnerability," Mohini sighed.

"Our blood connections stand us where just damnation lies ahead," Noshi said tragically, lying on the bed.

"Come on, stop thinking negatively and sleep. As she lay down, Mohini gently patted her, "I'm also very tired."

Nine years had passed since she came to Dubai. She had faced challenges from every corner, and what she had achieved, only she knew.

She was a dancer in Dubai. Life in Dubai was one thing, but when she came to Pakistan, her personality was very different here.

She never felt ashamed to say what her profession was.

She looked down from the roof of her house and saw Zainab.

"What are you doing, sister?" she called out to her neighbor.

"I'm preparing food for fasting,"

Zainab used to look down upon her unnecessarily; she did not like Noshi's profession.

"I'm also going to start preparing for fasting," Noshi said happily.

"What! You too will observe fasting? Zainab raised her eyebrows in mockery.

"Why? Can't I observe fasting? Noshi's heart sank.

"Go ahead, sister. Who is stopping you? You can do whatever you like," she joked deeply.

 you feel like," she joked deeply.

"I don't see actions; He sees intentions. Alhamdulillah, my intention is pure," she said with sincerity and moved away.

"Wow, the actions also revolve around intentions.

 Well, never mind me," she grumbled.

O Allah, this sinner of mine is harassing me with the burden of sins

Have mercy on me and forgive me. Thank you for bestowing Your grace upon me," she prayed with humility. Memories of last year's Ramadan came flooding back when she was severely ill and confined to a small room in Dubai's prison-like quarters.

At that time, a spontaneous prayer had come out of her heart that she would observe fasting in Pakistan the following year.

"Pour the milk, brother Sheru. We should go down," she called out when she saw Sheru descending the steps.

"Yes," he replied, nodding.

"I brought groceries for you. I could only manage this much with what little I had."

"Sister, may Allah accept your worship. Thank you so much.

"No need for thanks. Just pray," she smiled.

And below, Zainab spilled water from her water pitcher on Noshi's feet.