The mind stood in awe as the land around it shifted to an endless white plain. Then it happened. All the worries and hopelessness, mysery, and fear resided on the horizon, and everything around the mind was hymned with peace and safety.
That was the effect of the Ayah that Ayla recited. Even the heart responded to it. There was clarity and purpose in the air now. The tiredness stopped existing.
The mind hummed now and hovered as the ground beneath it convulsed and shifted. And then everything changed. Thousands of beautiful carpets were rolled open on the ground. Each, exquisite and vibrant. And from them rose countless stories.
Stories of the old and stories of the new Stories unheard yet, but some he knew. Stories of warriors and men of valor, stories of great kings that made him braver.
So the mind picked one from the rest and descended. Content. Fulfilled and at peace, it presented the story to Mufakkir.
It was the same story that Mufakkir's mother had told him before she passed away. The mind held onto it from the scrolls of memories when it landed in front.
"You know, Ayla"
,She looked up at her big brother with big watery eyes.
"I'll tell you a story."
To this Ayla brightened up and she smiled.
"Once long ago, in a land far away from here." Mufakkir held her hand and swayed it up to the east. As the building shook.
Debris fell, but it held on. They were safe for a few more minutes now.
"A Zaalim king (tyrant) existed who had a sorcerer. He would use that sorcerer to keep firm control over his people. By wicked means.
So one day, the sorcerer came before the king and pleaded
"My lord, I have become old, and there is very limited time left for me so please send a young boy to me whom I can teach magic."
Hence a boy was sent to the wicked sorcerer to learn his devious machinations. But so it happened that whenever the boy would go to meet the sorcerer, In his way, he would find a monk sitting.
The monk looked especially intriguing to the boy because he possessed nothing. Yet he was happy and satisfied. So the boy decided to spend more and more time with the monk than with the sorcerer.
He would get punished and thrashed by the sorcerer. Because he would always arrive late.
So the boy complained to the monk.
And the monk replied,
"Whenever you are afraid of the sorcerer, say to him, `My people kept me busy.' And whenever you are afraid of your people, say to them, `The sorcerer kept me busy."'
So the boy carried on.
like that.
Until one day...