children were quite a handful, but she managed it all with much fortitude. Sometimes the rich woman gave her milk powder and flour and even old clothes for Jamila, Siraj and Omar, which she thankfully accepted. It was a relief given their circumstances.
“Nice lamb. Have some of my khubz. It tastes great with lamb,” offered Majid.
“Then who will eat this rice? Next time I’ll come prepared,” smiled Aziz. Majid looked at Aziz and said, “Indeed, God lives.” That night, after ’Isha prayers, as he recounted the day’s events, Majid told his wife of his hope that God will answer his prayers soon.
He looked up at the dark expanse of the winter sky. The wind whistled and died among the sand dunes. Camels loitered outside the settlement. He sat near the window, prayed in his heart and watched the sky. The clouds drifted southwards and a distant star twinkled.
His joyous heart leapt like a hornbill’s at the first drop of rain. The last time he had seen a star scintillate that brightly was the night before Aziz gave him space in his shop.
He remembered that bygone time when he had almost decided to kill his family and himself in the face of impending uncertainty.
He knocked on many doors with his unimpressive bag of tools but was turned down, unsurprisingly. One day he was tired after his hunt for shelter and sat in front of a shop which happened to be Aziz’s. It was nearing noon and the sun was hot.
Aziz asked him in, gave him some water and they talked. That was the beginning of a new phase in Majid’s life. “Baba, why are you smiling?” asked Omar looking up at the night sky. Siraj and Jamila huddled around their father, looking at him in wide-eyed wonder.
Faridah looked at her husband, smiled and got on with her chores. Majid looked at his children for a while and grinned. Trembling with a happiness that he could not translate, he hugged them tight. He knew in his heart that he was given a promised sign.
The day shall come. Friday morning dawned with a lull in the air. Majid felt an unusual urge to go to the mosque in the city. After noon prayers, on his way back, he saw somebody lying face down on the roadside. Majid turned him over and was shocked to see dried . He scooped up the unconscious boy, waved down a truck and headed for the nearest hospital. Once there, he handed him over to the casualty ward and waited anxiously outside.
He feared he would get into trouble. As Majid was about to retreat, a doctor talking into his mobile, gestured for him to wait.
His heart fluttered till he felt nauseous and dizzy. Sweat broke on his forehead and his throat went dry. A dazzling black jaguar screeched to a halt outside the hospital. A flustered looking middle aged Arab got out from the car.
His countenance was the epitome of worry. He adjusted his ogal, wrapped his black robe that kept on slipping as he hurried in.
Majid watched in trepidation as the Arab swept past him and disappeared into the casualty unit. Although he knew in his heart that he had done no wrong, an unknown fear gripped his innermost being. As he was about to gather all his strength to run away, the Arab came out with the doctor whom Majid had seen earlier speaking into the mobile phone.
He pointed at Majid and there was some animated talk between him and the Arab who gestured for Majid to come over. Majid stood rooted to the spot. The Arab came close to him and took Majid’s mottled hand in his and kissed it. Majid was too stupefied to resist or understand what was happening. “Allahu Akbar! Otherwise my son would have died on the roadside.
He is the one who sent you in time. What’s your name?” asked the Arab with quivering lips. “Majid.” “What do you do?” “I’m a cobbler.” “Where do you live?” “In Panar. I’m a bedoun.” The Arab looked stunned and pondered over something before recovering his voice. 44 “Who do you have?” “My wife and three small children.”
“Why don’t you pick them and come to my home? You can be my gardener. I shall take care of your children’s education and your wife shall have some comfort.” Majid could not believe his ears. Suddenly he remembered the twinkling star. Surely it was more than a coincidence.
He knew that God had decided to put an end to his misery. His face streaming with tears, he fell to his knees and bowed to Makkah.
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