The Call

I hadn’t smoked in days. The will had been stronger than I used to give it credit for. Things had changed. I was definitely a better, stronger man.

But today was different. Today … I was going to indulge. Just this once. Because I needed to. Because the week wasn’t going well. Because I needed to get life off my mind.

So I came home from work. The electricity had gone. Dim sunlight shone into my room from half opened curtains. The temperature was perfect. Didn’t need the fan. I comfied myself, and put the goods on the bed. The roll was perfect. Retractable roach technology. Like always. As the first few drags went in, a wave of serenity followed. The Rubic cube set itself into shape. I closed my eyes. And took the whole feeling in. Ah, it had been a while. I had been strong. Shown character. And backbone. The work issues faded away, and I couldn’t remember the problems of the day, the issues, the politics. The setting was perfect. The conscience was silent. As I lay on the bed, with my eyes closed, and dim sunlight coming into the room…and a slight layer of smoke reflecting off the incoming light, sounds of birds chirping, and a slight breeze moving along…

Suddenly, it seemed as if someone slowly turned the master volume knob down … everything quietened down. And then, in the most beautiful of voices, a voice in which every word which was uttered had all the beauty, and the worth of the message, I heard the following:

Allah o Akbar
Allah o AKbar

Allah is Great
Allah is Great

Allah is Great
Allah is Great

I bear witness that there is no God except Allah
I bear witness that there is no God except Allah

I bear witness that Mohammad is the messenger of Allah
I bear witness that Mohammad is the messenger of Allah

Come to Prayer
Come to Prayer

Come to Salvation
Come to Salvation

Allah is Great
Allah is Great

There is no God except Allah

The voice was beautiful. It penetrated me and struck a chord somewhere deep down inside. That I was missing something. And that something was God. Religion. The answer. Everything had quietened down for the duration of the azaan. It was surreal. To say the least. I wondered how to respond. I was stoned. There arose another question. Was I not in a position to pray? Would I be committing another big sin by responding to the call whilst being intoxicated? I didn’t have the answers. I still don’t. but that’s not reason enough … to not respond.