Rendezvous

One unusually cold afternoon in late winter, Salim and Iqbal were huddled close together by a heat register, reading different passages from the Koran. To add emphasis to a particular lesson or point, the two men would recite in unison. Every so often, Iqbal would gently place his arm around Salim’s shoulders, giving him comfort and encouragement. Brothers in a quest for heightened spirituality.

“I want to meet the Imam,” Salim said suddenly, breaking away from his reading.

Iqbal looked at him, carefully searching the boy’s face.

“Why do you ask this, if you are not convinced that he is the holiest of men and his words are the true interpretation of the Koran?”

“I do believe,” Salim replied as he turned to face him. “I believe differently than I did before. I want to belong to the Imam. I want to do his bidding.”

“And you think that the Imam would embrace you?”

“He is our Imam,” Salim countered. “I am a Muslim who needs the guidance of his Imam. Surely, he cannot deny me the wish to be his servant?”

Iqbal put his arm around his shoulder again and looked down at the Koran they were reading. “Salim,” he asked softly, “do you know what you are asking? If you want to be his servant, like Rashid, Hamid, myself, and many others, are you ready to give up all your other relationships? Your friends, your family? Everything that you are today?”

Salim was thoughtful for a while. He ran his hands down his face and smiled.

“I am more convinced of this than of anything in my life. In the deepest corner of my heart I know that this is my destiny. This is what I was brought into this world for.”

“And what of your family, Salim?” Iqbal asked.

“My family would not be proud of what I am today,” he replied in a whisper. “In this calling which I now have, they will be honored to give my life to the Imam.”

Iqbal looked at him and nodded his head slowly. He then carefully closed the Koran, rose, and gently placed it on the kitchen table.

“You will have to be tested, you know this?” he asked quietly.

“I accept it,” Salim told him firmly. “Right now you only have words from my mouth, not deeds on which to rely and actions on which to base trust. In my dreams, I have taken the tests, in my dreams, I have felt the idea of giving my life for what I believe. So test me. I am ready.”

“Inshallah, Salim, I will have to think about this and confer with the others.”

“You mean Rashid and Hamid?” Salim asked.

                  “Your first lesson, my brother, is from this point on, never mention any names in conversations like the one we are having and will be having in the future if you become one of us. Remember, always, that what we do depends on strict secrecy. We are like ghosts."