No announcement yet.


  • Filter
  • Time
  • Show
Clear All
new posts


    A man was walking through the market place one afternoon when, just as the muezzin began the call to prayer, his eye fell on a woman’s back. She was strangely attractive, though dressed in fulsome black, a veil over head and face, and she now turned to him as if somehow conscious of his over-lingering regard, and gave him a slight but meaningful nod before she rounded the corner into the lane of silk sellers. As if struck by a bolt from heaven, the man was at once drawn, his heart a prisoner of that look, forever. In vain he struggled with his heart, offering it one sound reason after another to go his way—wasn’t it time to pray?—but it was finished: there was nothing but to follow. He hastened after her, turning into the market of silks, breathing from the exertion of catching up with the woman, who had unexpectedly outpaced him and even now lingered for an instant at the far end of the market, many shops ahead. She turned toward him, and he thought he could see a flash of a mischievious smile from beneath the black muslin of her veil, as she—was it his imagination?—beckoned to him again.

    The poor man was beside himself. Who was she? The daughter of a wealthy family? What did she want? He requickened his steps and turned into the lane where she had disappeared. And so she led him, always beyond reach, always tantalizingly ahead, now through the weapons market, now the oil merchants’, now the leather sellers’; farther and farther from where they began. The feeling within him grew rather than decreased. Was she mad? On and on she led, to the very edge of town. The sun declined and set, and there she was, before him as ever. Now they were come, of all places, to the City of Tombs. The sun declined and set, and there she was, before him as ever. Now they were come, of all places, to the City of Tombs. Had he been in his normal senses, he would have been afraid, but indeed, he now reflected, stranger places than this had seen a lovers’ tryst. There were scarcely twenty cubits between them when he saw her look back,and, giving a little start, she skipped down the steps and through the great bronze door of what seemed to be a very old sepulcher. A soberer moment might have seen the man pause, but in his present state, there was no turning back, and he went down the steps and slid in after her. Inside, as his eyes saw after a moment, there were two flights of steps that led down to a second door, from whence a light shone, and which he equally passed through.

    He found himself in a large room, somehow unsuspected by the outside world, lit with candles upon its walls. There sat the woman, opposite the door on a pallet of rich stuff in her full black dress, still veiled, reclining on a pillow against the far wall. To the right of the pallet, the man noticed a well set in the floor.
    “Lock the door behind you,” she said in a low, husky voice that was almost a whisper, “and bring the key.”
    He did as he was told. She gestured carelessly at the well.
    “Throw it in.” A ray of sense seemed to penetrate for a moment the clouds over his understanding, and a bystander, had there been one, might have detected the slightest of pauses.

    “Go on,” she said laughingly, “You didn’t hesitate to miss the prayer as you followed me here, did you?” He said nothing. "The time for sunset prayer has almost finished as well,” she said with gentle mockery. “Why worry? Go on, throw it in. You want to please me, don’t you?” He extended his hand over the mouth of the well, and watched as he let the key drop. An uncanny feeling rose from the pit of his stomach as moments passed but no sound came. He felt wonder, then horror, then comprehension. “It is time to see me,” she said, and she lifted her veil to reveal not the face of a fresh young girl, but of a hideous old crone, all darkness and vice, not a particle of light anywhere in its eldritch lines. See me well,” she said. “My name is Dunya( World). I am your beloved. You spent your time running after me, and now you have caught up with me. In your grave. Welcome, welcome.” At this she laughed and laughed, until she shook herself into a small mound of fine dust, whose fitful shadows, as the candles went out, returned to the darkness one by one.

    Sincerely, Pakistani Tiger

    Ebrit ka nashan.
    thanks to share


      if only we wud learn....

      "Our Lord! forgive us our sins and anything we may have done that transgressed our duty; establish our feet firmly and help us against those that resist faith." Quran(3:147)
      Both Halal & Haram r evident but between them r doubtful things, most ppl have no knowledge about them. So whoever saves himself from suspicious things saves his religion & honor, & whoever indulges in suspicious things indulges in Haram.



        I like the message of parable however, i don't like the title woman. It should be Life or something like that.
        But thanks for sharing it


          Nice Article

          Thanks for sharing with us Tiger


            Hmm..I'm not comfortable with the symbol being a woman...its kinda anti-womanish...

            I heard another story - my lame, shortened, and non-creatively written version:

            A young man came across a pretty girl. So he decided he wished to marry her. He brought his father over to meet her and to finalize his decision....but alas, his father fell for the girl too...

            So the father and the son argued and the girl kinda looked on helplessly and troubled. So the son and father went to the town magistrate to have the problem solved over who should marry the girl (at this point I ask, why didn't they just ask the girl??? but oh well, its got a moral in the end, at least). The magistrate got to wondering who this girl could be that had a father and son up all in a he went off to see her with the son and the father.

            And he fell for her too.

            So the magistrate, father, and the son all started arguing over the girl, when at last, they decided to take up the matter with the prince.

            So off the went to the prince to have their problem solved. After hearing the stories of each of the three men, the prince got to wondering too, and he took the three men to visit the girl.

            And guess what happened?

            He fell for her too.

            So now all the 4 men are fighting over the girl and naturally the girl got frightened and decided to run for it.

            So she's running and running and running, and of course, the 4 men are running after her too!

            Well the father was an old guy, so he got tired after running for a while and fell flat on his face in the desert sand. The other three just ran over him.

            After a few yards, the magistrate couldn't hold himself any longer and just fainted in the heat. I think he's also kinda overweight, so naturally he's not gonna last when running.

            He also falls flat on his face in the sand (Pithui!)

            Now the race is on between the son and the father, ladies and gentlemen. Its a close one. But oh, no!. The son falls. For as athletic he is...he hasn't been enjoying the physical workouts that the prince gets at his personal gym.

            So the prince finally catches up to the girl? Nope. He also falls - yonder. The poor guy is lying with his head in the sand, sand grits in his mouth and eyes and he looks up to see the girl standing over him looking into his eyes deeply.

            He asks "who are you? You have had us running after you like madmen. You can't be human even, no girl here runs like you do. I'm the best runner this town has ever seen , and you even outdid me. What gives?"

            She says "Well, dude, my name is DUNIYA. Men will be running after me for their entire existence, and they will never be able to catch me"
            I believe in dragons, good men, and other fantasy creatures.


              cool version ...well both the stories are good...the message is the same...stop running after the world, and try to look beyond it.....try to set ur goals so as to achieve success in the hereafter.

              Warna...larkiyoun ke peeche he bhagte reh jao ge vice versa for the girls ofcourse