Fire was blazing beautifully over the horizon, a crisp summer air surrounded Alina. Her hands were folded against her chest clutching a dark green book with bright golden Arabic calligraphy. Her head was covered in her usual white scarf. She stood next to a grave, its tip; a perfectly well maintained tetrahedron, its base stabilized through outlining of marble, black and white. The tomb stone was white marble with black Urdu inscribed in it that read:
In affectionate remembrance of Molana Humdard1942-2008 None but Allah is worthy of worshipMohammad(SAW) is His messenger
Scent of fresh incense sticks filled the air. Alina finished reciting her prayer and looked up in the sky. The sky was a mystery of colors. Red, pink, purple, orange, yellow and brown all mixed together to give the picture a perfect landscape. Just gazing at it brought a sense of tranquility. The same tranquility that Molana had helped Alina bring in her life all those years ago when she was still young, when she was reading a piece of paper in one hand and eating a slice of mango with the other. Alina closed her eyes. A tear trickled down her face and she whispered under her breath ‘thank you’.
