Salar's eyes were fixed on the computer screen but he was listening to her with a smile.
'I've come here with a demand on behalf of all the staff—we want a party! You have to arrange the dinner tonight.'
Salar looked up at her. 'Ramsha, I don't celebrate my birthday.'
'Why?'
'Just like that...'
'There must be a reason.'
'No special reason: I just don't do it. That's it.'
'Well, you didn't do so before, but this time you have to. This time the entire staff wants a celebration,' she said very candidly.
'I can have a party for you any day, anywhere—at my place or at a hotel—any time, wherever you all wish. But not as a birthday celebration,' Salar spoke rather bluntly.
'Oh, so that means you want us to arrange a party for you,' Ramsha retorted.
'I didn't say that.' Salar was taken aback.
'If you cannot have a party for all of the staff, at least you can take me out for dinner.'
'Ramsha, I'm busy with some friends tonight,' Salar expressed regret.
'No problem—I'll join you too,' she shot back.
'No—that won't be very appropriate.'
'Why?'
'Because it's a stag party and you don't know any of them.' He made another excuse.
'I understand,' she said. 'Then we'll go tomorrow?'
'Not tomorrow—some other day. I'll let you know.'
Ramsha was disappointed; she realized that he did not intend to take her out anywhere for the time being.
'OK,' she said standing up.
'I hope you didn't mind what I said,' he said, seeing her leave.
'No, not at all. It's alright.' She smiled and left the room. Salar got busy with his work. He had assumed that this birthday party business was now in the past, but he was quite wrong.
A surprise party had been arranged for him in the lunch hour. His boss, Mr Paul Miller greeted him warmly. Ramsha had made all the preparations and looking at the cake and all the other accompaniments, Salar was now concerned about Ramsha's intentions. She had hinted more than once about her liking for him and this party confirmed her sentiments. After the party, he spent almost an hour in the office thinking about her: he was trying to fathom what error on his part had led her to take interest in him.
There was no doubt that she was a very attractive girl and perhaps the best among those he had met in the last few months. But he did not want her to get involved with him. In the recent past, he had dismissed her attention to him as a part of her pleasant nature and friendliness. However, when he went home and opened the gifts he had received at the office party, he was astonished. He was still in a state of perplexity at the nature of these gifts when Furqan walked in.
Taking in the presents in the drawing room, he exclaimed, 'Wow! You've collected quite a treasure today. Can I have a look?'
He sat down. Salar nodded. A watch, perfumes, ties—Furqan unwrapped them, one after another.
'Isn't this an adequate collection for your wedding?' Furqan remarked with a smile. 'Your colleagues have really been generous!'
'Just one colleague,' noted Salar.
'All this has been given by one person?' Furqan was surprised. 'Who?'
'Ramsha.'
Furqan pursed up his lips. 'Do you really know that the value of all these put together would be in the range of 150,000 rupees?' he glanced at the items again.
'This watch alone could not have cost less than 50,000—no one would consider you just a colleague to give such costly presents. Is it that there's something between you and...' Furqan stopped.
'There's nothing between us; at least not on my part. But today I'm worried: I feel that Ramsha is taking too much interest in me,' said Salar, casting a look at the gifts again.
'That's very good—so someone does find you interesting after all,' Furqan remarked as he put the gift back on the table. 'You've been a bachelor long enough. Get this happy task done this year.'
'When I do not intend to get married, then why should I prolong this business?'
'Salar, why are you becoming increasingly impractical by the day? You should seriously consider settling down now. How long will you keep running away from girls? You ought to start your own family now. Ramsha's a very nice girl: I know their family. A bit too modern perhaps, but they're good people. And if not Ramsha, then marry someone else. I can help you in this regard or you can seek your parents help, but don't delay this further. You should think more seriously about this and at least have some response to what others have to say.' Furqan stressed the last sentence, drawing Salar's attention to his silence.
'It gives one the satisfaction that one is not making a speech before a statue,' said Furqan. 'Don't you ever think about getting married?'
'Who doesn't?' Salar spoke slowly. 'But I don't think of marriage the way you do. Like some tea?'
'Instead of that last statement, you could have said "Quit your nonsense".' Furqan was quite annoyed. Salar shrugged, smiling wryly as he collected the gifts.
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Ramsha stared in amazement at the packages lying before her. 'But Salar, these are your birthday gifts!'
The next day Salar had returned everything except for one tie; he was in Ramsha's office.'I do not accept such expensive gifts from anyone. Just one tie would have been enough.'
'Salar, I give my friends such costly presents,' she tried to explain.
'I'm sure you do, but I do not take them. And if you insist any more then I'll return the tie too,' replied Salar, and without waiting for her answer, he left the room. Ramsha sadly watched him walk away.
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That day too Salar, as usual, had come to Dr Sibt-e-Ali's. He had not yet started his lecture when a middle-aged man addressed him.
'Dr Sahib, when a person finds the perfect mentor, his fortunes change.'
Salar turned around to look at the man: he had been coming here for the past few days.
'It enhances his generations. Ever since I started coming to you, I feel I have found a direction. My life had become chaotic. Something in my heart tells me I have found my perfect mentor—I want to accept you as my guide, my leader.'
With utmost faith, he clasped Dr Ali's hands. There was complete silence in the room. Dr Ali gently patted the man's hands and withdrew his own.
'Taqi Sahib, to this day, I have never in my life expected anyone to make such a declaration. I've heard you talk about a perfect mentor...who is a perfect mentor? Who do you call a perfect mentor? What does he do? Why is he needed?' he asked Taqi Sahib very seriously.
'You are the perfect mentor,' he replied.
'No, I am not,' said Dr Ali.
'I get guidance from you,' the man insisted.
'Guidance comes from teachers and parents too. Leaders also guide as well as friends—are they all perfect mentors?'
'You do not sin.' The man was now confused.
'Yes, I do not do so consciously because I fear sinfulness. Many people sitting here may also not sin consciously because they too may fear sin, like me. But I am not aware of what I may do unknowingly. It is very likely that unconsciously I may have sinned.' Dr Sibt-e-Ali smiled.
'Your prayers are answered.' The man was not ready to relinquish his stand.
'The prayers of parents are also answered as are the prayers of those who are oppressed and helpless, and many others.'
'But every prayer of yours is accepted,' he insisted.
Dr Sibt-e-Ali shook his head in negation. 'No. Not every prayer is fulfilled. For many years now, I have been praying daily for a Muslim renaissance, but that does not seem to be happening. Many other things I pray for daily do not materialize.'
'But whoever comes to you with a plea has his prayers answered.'
Dr Ali's smile deepened. 'Perhaps, my pleas for you were heard but there are several others here for whom I have prayed but not been answered.'
There was nothing the man could s
ay to this argument.
'Can any one of you tell me who is a perfect mentor?'
The people in the audience looked at each other; then one spoke up.
'Someone who is pious, devout, a worshipper.'
Dr Ali shook his head. 'There are many devout, pious people who do not fault in their prayers—many of them sitting around you. Are they the perfect mentors?
'The perfect guide is one whose worship is not just for the public, but comes from his heart, for God alone. His goodness and piety are genuine, not just an act,' opined another.
'In your circle of friends, you must surely know at least one such person who is a true worshipper, whose goodness and devotion are completely trustworthy. So is such a person the ideal guide?'
After a quiet pause, someone else spoke up. 'It would be a person whose speech has the impact to change others' lives.'
'The impact is there—in the words some people say, or others write. An actor on the stage, a journalist in his columns may have that impact, but does that make them the perfect guides?'
'The ideal mentor would be one who can prophesy, who has mystic powers and can predict the future,' said another.
'Many of us have dreams that portend the future or give us some indication of what's to come. Some people can pray to seek knowledge of the future; some have very strong sixth sense and can feel coming dangers. Who is the perfect mentor then?' asked Dr Sibt-e-Ali. He repeated his question after a spell of silence.
'Who could be a perfect mentor?'
Salar began looking at Dr Ali in a perplexed way. 'Can there be anyone other than Dr Ali who is the perfect guide? If so, who could it be? Who was it?' he thought.
The same thoughts echoed in the minds of others present there. Dr Ali was watching each face and slowly his smile faded.
'The perfect mentor is one who is the paragon of perfection—perfection that is the composite of all his thoughts and actions, all that you have been describing. It is one whose worship is true and pure, who is noble and devout. Every prayer of his is fulfilled to the extent that God wills. There is an effect, an impact in his speech; he guides people too but he's not a soothsayer, he is a mystic. He receives divine revelation—something that is not granted to all and sundry. Of the 124,000 messengers of God each one was a mentor, but the perfect mentor was he who received the final message of God, who was the seal of the prophets.'
'Every human being, at some point in his life, needs a mentor. At times, life brings one to a stage where one feels that all pleas and supplications— on the lips, in the heart—are going unheard. One's prostrations, one's outstretched hands cannot turn God's blessings to oneself. One feels as though there was a link that is now lost and there is a yearning for someone who will lift his hands in prayer, whose words will reach God as he pleads before Him, someone whose supplications are heard and answered, someone whose prayers will not be rejected like his own. Then one searches for the ideal guide, the perfect mentor, pursuing this search through the world for that individual who stands at some stage of perfection.
'This search for perfection, for the perfect mentor, has been with man since his evolution to this day. It is a desire that God Himself has put in the hearts of the people and had it not been there, they would never have had any faith in the prophets nor would have tried to follow them. It was this search that drew them to the prophets who brought divine messages to the people in every era across the world. The divine revelations came to a close with God's final message to the last prophet, Hazrat Muhammad (PBUH). After him, his followers needed no other guide or mentor.
Who is there today, or in the times to come, who can be given a station higher than that of Hazrat Muhammad Mustafa (PBUH)?
Who is there today, or in the times to come, who can claim greater perfection than the prophet, Hazrat Muhammad (PBUH)?
Who today or in the future can claim to intercede for his followers, other than Hazrat Muhammad?
'The lasting quiet response in negation raises just one issue: why do we seek an ideal guide other than the perfect mentor, Hazrat Muhammad (PBUH)? When we have professed faith in him, what is the need to declare our faith in others?
'Instead of treading the path shown by the perfect mentor, what are the other roads that attract us? Are one God, one Faith, one Quran, one Prophet and the example of his way of life not enough for the Muslims? Other than God, His word and the guidance of His prophet, who else or what else is there that will save us in this life and the hereafter? Who can fulfill our prayers and bless us with His bounties? Can anyone say what sect the perfect mentor belongs to? No one can.'
Dr Sibt-e-Ali spoke on.
'He was only a Muslim; a Muslim who believed that if he walked the straight and narrow path, he would be rewarded with heaven and if he diverted from it he would be punished by God's wrath.
'And the straight and narrow path is that which the Almighty, through His prophet Muhammad (PBUH), has shown us in the Quran in very clear, precise and unambiguous language. Do that which God has instructed through His prophet (PBUH) and desist from that which He has forbidden.
'There is no ambiguity about God, the prophet (PBUH) or the Quran in any way. Look up the Quran and see if you find, in clear, precise terms any reference to another prophet or perfect guide. Keep searching, and if you don't find any such thing, then beware of the quagmire you're landing yourself in. You are using the few decades of your life on earth to ruin your life hereafter—what a poor bargain! If you want guidance, seek it in the Quran; it gives you all the answers to your queries; it does not leave you simple, ignorant and clueless. It flings your reality in your face. Does God not know man, just one of the millions of His creation?
'If your supplications are not heard, then don't go searching for sources and intercessors—just raise your hands to Him and plead your own case. If He should grant your prayers, be thankful; if not, be patient; but you must make the effort yourself. If your life does not have any order or direction, then emulate the example of the prophet (pbuh) and search his guidance. Your needs will be fulfilled.
'Respect everyone—every leader, every believer (momin), every elder and martyr, and the pious and devout. But in your life follow the example of only the prophet (pbuh) for he has not given you any instructions of his own volition: whatever he conveyed to you is only by God's will, revealed to him by the Almighty.
'Who or what is Dr Sibt-e-Ali? Who knows him or what he does? You and a few hundred people or a few thousand, but the Perfect Mentor (PBUH) I speak of is known to more than a billion people who accept him as their spiritual leader. I have been saying, and repeating over the last few years the same message that Hazrat Muhammad (PBUH) gave us 1400 years ago. Is there anything new in what I say?'
Dr Sibt-e-Ali fell silent. The audience was already quiet: it was as if he had shown them a mirror and what they saw there left them frightened and perturbed.
Coming out, Salar sat in his car, pondering, for quite some time. The last veil too had been lifted from his eyes. Several years ago when Imama Hashim had left home without considering the consequences, he had been unable to understand her passion. To him it was sheer stupidity. Later it began to make sense to him. He came to know that a person could indeed hold the prophet ((PBUH) so dear and in such high esteem that they could give up everything for love of him.
As he learned more about Islam and its history, he came to know that the revered companions of the Prophet (PBUH) had also made many such sacrifices for the faith. From Hazrat Bilal (RA) to Hazrat Owais Qarni (RA) there had been countless individuals, and in every era too who had given their all for Islam. Salar Sikandar admitted that the love of the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) was such a powerful magnet that it could compel anyone to give up anything. He had not tried to analyze this sentiment before and today, as he sat there, he was pondering over it for the first time.
It was not just the love for the Prophet ((PBUH) that had made Imama Hashim walk away from her home: she had seen the path to goodness, the strai
ght path, and she turned towards it. It was the same path that he had been searching all these years, the path that the companions of the Prophet (PBUH) had trodden.
Imama Hashim had found the Perfect Mentor, the Prophet Muhammad ((PBUH) years ago. The guidance she received from the love and respect for the Prophet (PBUH) had given her courage. Salar to this day had not been able to identify Hazrat Muhammad (PBUH) as the ideal mentor, and Imama had done this all by herself. She did not need anyone's support or guidance as Salar did.
In the last eight years, Salar had experienced every possible emotion for Imama—contempt, mockery, regret, hatred, love, everything—but that day, he felt envy for her. What was she but a woman? An ordinary woman, not some hour of paradise. What was her worth compared to Salar Sikandar?
'Does she have an IQ level like mine?'
'Has she had successes like I have had?'
'Can she do the kind of work I do?'
'Can she acquire a reputation like I have done?'
'She was nothing, had nothing, and yet everything had been offered to her on a platter. And I with an outstanding IQ level have been unable to see what has been before me all along.'
Staring ahead into the dark, and moist-eyed, Salar was muttering to himself. 'Just gave me the capacity to step out and conquer the world: that world which has no meaning or value...that world...' He stopped. He was really angry at Imama. Eight years ago, he would have abused her, called her 'bitch' as he did; but today after this passage of time, he could not bring himself to say anything derogatory about her—he could not dare do so. How can one possibly say anything negative about a woman who stood far ahead of oneself on the path of righteousness?
He took off his glasses and wiped his eyes. He seemed defeated. 'The Perfect Mentor (PBUH)...the path of righteousness.' It had taken him eight years to reach this point, but his search had ended—he had found the answer.
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They were both in a restaurant. Ramsha had dressed up especially for the occasion. She was very happy and happiness exuded from her very being. Even Salar could feel it. Salar took the menu card from the waiter but he folded it and laid it on the table. Ramsha looked at him in surprise.