From the valley of hell,
Neighborhood Fire City,
Dear Muslim Ummah! My name is Iblis. The world knows me by the name of Satan. If a woman breaks the glass anchor while grinding spices in it, I am still responsible. Good on you guys for handling my work. I’m on vacation these days but I’m still doing well. As soon as this month comes, I am imprisoned, but I thank you all who did not take me out of their minds. I will never forget your kindness in hell that you missed me in the world and didn’t put my work at halt. You have done my duty without pay. Thanks from my side!
My Muslim friends! You’re glad I’m in prison during Ramadan, but what great success have you achieved in my absence? Even though I am confined, I am still amongst you. On the contrary, you may be surprised to hear that just because of you, I don’t have to show the same dedication, hard work and devotion towards my cause. Think of it as double your profits and double my success. If you are not sure, take a look at the rate list of commodities before the month of Ramadan.
My dear colleagues! One day in prison lasts for weeks. Time does not pass I’m just here and I have your memories. I cannot forget Seth Sahib who had everything given by Allah. He used to play in millions, held I’tikaf in Haram Sharif during the last ten days of Ramadan every year and it was his custom to perform Hajj every two years. Always prayed to Almighty to keep him safe from my evil. Just yesterday, my spy from the neighborhood informed me that his daughter has asked for a share in the property and Seth Sahib has disowned her.
I was introduced to Seth Sahib at a party last year. Seth’s cook’s wife had died of TB. Coughing and coughing, life was over, but the money for medicine was not enough. He has five daughters and all of them were born in the same room but all of them are illiterate because their parents did not have enough money to send them to school. Now, God willing, even the youngest has reached the age of marriage, but all are virgins.
Her mother is dead and her father goes all day with Seth Sahib. Now who has the time to find a reasonable man and where will the wedding expenses come from? I have peeked into their hearts many times and there are great wishes for marriage. They want to get married themselves but then they are afraid of societal norms. Whenever Seth Sahib returns after Umrah, I’tikaaf and Hajj, pots of colorful food are offered at the invitation by the city chiefs, she keeps thinking that if only her father had that much money than their marriages would not have been a big issue.
Seekers of heaven my dear fellows! Allah expelled me from Paradise but peace be upon those who sheltered me in their hearts. The heart that contains God and me. The memorizer who has the Qur’an in his heart and also my abode. The old Zahid who want Hoors but also remember every name of every girl from the neighborhood. The father in whose eyes it is necessary to distinguish between a boy and a girl, the husband who sees every woman as pretty except his wife. The Saith sahib in whose house thousands are spent on Iftar but doesn’t bother about someone falling asleep hungry in the locality.
A Mufti whose all fatwas are for others. The worshiper in whose eyes all the flaws are found in non-worshiper. The doctor whose expensive fee made a poor sell his hut but whose NGO raises funds from abroad in the name of poor. That Mullah whose fate changed because of his devotees, but the devotees remained the same. A ruler whose palace is equipped with all the luxuries but his people does not even have a clay lamp. The superintendent whose children continued to study in the universities but the students of the madrassa could not go beyond two plus two.
The contractor who built his empire but the roads he built are repaired every year. The sweet tongue mullah who can see a pulp of a maiden’s knee, but can’t raise his voice against a tyrant ruler. The bodyguard under whose care one’s lifetime earnings were squandered. The teacher who could not identify the good and the bad in the students. The preacher who reached the king’s court but his prayers could not reach beyond the skies. A news anchor who knows the happenings around the globe but is unfamiliar about the miseries of his colleagues.
Students who remember full bio data of the girls in the class but not the name of the gatekeeper. My special greetings to all those who still call bribery as a gift and all those so called Muslims who are making my work easier by promoting sectarianism in the name of Sahaba, Ahlul Bayt, Tohheed and Prophethood. These people are very dear to me because they are my identity in this age and my incarnation in human form.
My fans! Don’t worry, although I am imprisoned in the month of Ramadan and away from you, but in fact I am all around you, when did I even go? Just look, people are still being called infidels who present varying opinions. The tailor’s scissors are showing their skills. Water is being mixed in the milk. The mixing in red bricks is still going on. Things that were rare before Ramadan are plentiful with double rates.
Millet continues to be mixed with coriander. Hajj from Zakat Fund, Umrah and Iftar parties are also going on. Teen-age girls are still being raped and killed. Did gambling and theft fade away? Has the husband stopped abusing and beating his wife? Lying, hypocrisy, drinking, back-biting, malice, murder and looting, lust, adultery, Kidnapping, robberies and interest are all blossoming in full bloom.
If all this is going on, who is to say that I am imprisoned? On the contrary, I am now convinced that even if I die, my successors will continue my work. Rather, I am thinking of submitting a petition to Allah that when all these works have been taken over by human beings, then why Satan is slandered for free? I’m thinking that as long as you guys are alive, my work will continue anyway, so why don’t I retire and watch the show?
Thank you,
Satan.
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