Jamal stood barefoot on the bank of a vast, dark river. He wore a blue shirt and striped trousers. A brown-coloured Qur'an rested firmly in his right hand. How long he had been standing there, he could not quite recall.
Across the surface of the dark river, mist rose and fell like frost in a cold room. Behind him, a massive barren land stretched into an unseen horizon. Above that vast expanse hung a scorching sun that somehow never reached where Jamal stood. The setting awed him and, at the same time, frightened him.
To his left, thick bushes and tall trees stretched into the unseen distance. To his right lay the same endless wall of trees and bushes, except for a thin line cutting through them like a forgotten footpath that showed no sign of constant use. He turned his head and scanned the entire location. Everything felt unreal. He could not even recall how he had gotten there, or what exactly he was standing there waiting for.
Suddenly, he heard a single persistent sound rising from within the mist deep over the water. It was like the drawn string of an ancient cello. He lifted his gaze toward the direction of the sound.
And behold, sailing smoothly out of the mist upon the calm surface of the water, was a small canoe.
As the canoe drifted closer, the sound grew louder. The canoe moved with the rhythm of the cello's string, as though the music itself served as both paddle and navigator. As the canoe emerged further from the mist, the figure seated within gradually became visible.
A lady. Perhaps.
At least, the figure appears to be one from the way it dresses.
She wore a long purple gown. A gold veil covered her face from the bridge of her nose down to her chest. The red cello rested calmly upon her lap.
Jamal stepped deeper into the water. He raised his hand and called out to her, but his voice seemed to disappear into his own head.
He could hear himself speaking, yet no sound escaped him. Oddly enough, he could hear the cello perfectly. The music felt less as though it came from the distant canoe and more as though it originated from somewhere deep within him.
Amidst his growing turmoil, a mellow voice reached him from across the water.
Feminine.
Sharp.
Clear.
The voice overtook the resonance of the cello throughout his entire being like a converter switching an electric current.
"Nothing stops the flow of water. You will find me when you find yourself."
The words echoed through his system and across the vast expanse of land before dissolving into the air.
Then the cello resumed.
The canoe continued its smooth passage across the water, drifting deeper into the distance until it was slowly swallowed by the mist rising above the water surface.
Gradually, everything returned to stillness.
The water remained calm as though nothing had ever crossed it.
The sound of the cello faded completely.
Jamal remained rooted to the spot where he had attempted to call out. His eyes stayed fixed on the path where the canoe had vanished before he finally turned to scan his surroundings once more.
"You will find me when you find yourself."
The words continued to echo inside him long after everything had returned to normal.
He searched the visible stretches of the river with his eyes if he could sight any canoe to pursue this mysterious woman and perhaps seek understanding of what she had meant. But he found nothing.
Nothing.
There was no living being in sight.
The woman in the canoe was the only person he had encountered since arriving there.
"What is happening? Am I dead?"
He thought to himself.
Without hesitation, he turned toward the narrow path to his right and began walking, leaving behind the scorching land, the mist-covered water, and the thick forest to his left, hoping to find a canoe, a boat, or possibly a living being.
He pressed forward through the thin trail, forcing his way through bushes and thorns.
As he ventured deeper into the forest; struggling with shrubs and thorns, he noticed something he had not seen from the riverbank.
Smoke.
A thin trail of smoke rising from somewhere deep within the woods.
The smoke became a beacon.
He followed it through the forest, hoping to find something tangible on the other end that might aid him in his quest.
He pushed through the bushes, using the smoke as a guide until he emerged into a clearing unlike the place he had left behind.
It felt as though the scenery had shifted instantly.
The moment he broke through the final line of bushes, everything changed.
The riverbank.
The barren land.
The scorching sun.
Gone.
All of it disappeared as though it had never existed.
He had come this far hoping to find a canoe he could use to cross the water in search of the mysterious woman who had whispered unforgettable words into his soul.
Directing his gaze toward the source of the smoke, he saw a man seated beneath a tree.
Before the man floated what appeared to be a fireplace that produced smoke without fire, fuel, wood, paper, or ash.
Only smoke.
The sight astonished Jamal even further.
He approached calmly and respectfully, though exhausted from forcing his way through the forest for what felt like an eternity.
To his surprise, his voice returned the moment he opened his mouth to speak to the man.
"Peace be upon you on this good day," Jamal said tiredly.
The man, who had been watching him approach from afar, raised his head and smiled.
"And upon you be peace on this good day," he replied.
His gaze shifted from the smoke to Jamal and back again.
Then he dipped a finger into the strange fireplace.
Instantly, the smoke vanished.
Jamal's eyes widened.
He had witnessed far too many impossible things already.
Scratching his head, he placed his Qur'an against the trunk of a nearby tree and adjusted the collar of his shirt.
He had walked all this distance for one purpose.
To find a canoe.
Who this man was and what his mission might be mattered little to him.
"Please, sir," he began, clearing his throat. "Can I..."
The man interrupted him.
"I have been expecting you."
He rose to his feet.
"The journey ahead is greater than the one behind."
The man turned and began walking toward a structure few meters from where he was sitting. He wore a flowing garment of gold and milk-white cloth. The golden portions shimmered as he moved gracefully.
Turning back, he beckoned at Jamal.
"Come. I have been expecting you."
Jamal stood frozen. Confused.
"Expecting me?"
"How?"
"Why?" He questioned rhetorically.
He hesitated for a moment then took a few steps forward.
"But we've never met. Do you even have any idea why I'm here?"
The man merely offered a sheepish smile.
"You may call me The Pathfinder. Come. We have a long way ahead."
Then he turned and continued walking.
"The Pathfinder?" Jamal repeated, "Maybe he might just lead me to the person I seek." He thought to himself.
With that, he hurried after The pathfinder into the structure.
"But there is a lady I saw moments ago..." He stopped abruptly and rubbed his eyes.
Had his eyes deceived him? They had arrived at another opening through the structure. And before them stretched another enormous body of water.
One he never imagined could exist along this path.
"How many more surprises are left to be unleashed?" he wondered.
The Pathfinder untied a small canoe hidden beside a tree at a blind spot.
Together, they dragged it to the water's edge.
The Pathfinder handed Jamal a paddle.
Jamal smiled.
"How did you know I needed a canoe?"
"Were you the one disguised as the woman on the boat?"
He continued bombarding the Pathfinder with questions but got little than no answer in return. The man only focused on preparing the canoe for sailing.
When he was finished, he climbed into the canoe and sat at one end.
He motioned for Jamal to enter.
Jamal obeyed.
"Row," the Pathfinder said as he dipped his oar into the water and began paddling.
"But I don't know how," Jamal protested. But he handled the oar anyway.
Nineteen metres into the water, his hands began moving in perfect rhythm with the Pathfinder's strokes.
And together they sailed smoothly across the vast water toward the unseen and an unknown land.
As they sailed deeper into the water, Jamal was the first to break the silence.
"So..." A grin crept across his face. "How did you know I needed a canoe?"
No answer came.
He glanced sideways at the Pathfinder.
"And moreover, I don't think this is the route the lady I seek followed."
Still nothing.
Jamal's smile began to thin.
"Are you sure you're not a fraud?"
The only response was the steady splash of paddles cutting through water.
He continued throwing questions into the silence, each one disappearing as quickly as it came.
Moments later, the Pathfinder cleared his throat.
"Patience is a virtue, my friend."
Jamal stared at him.
"Patience is a virtue?"
He let out a short laugh.
"I agreed to follow you without knowing you from Adam. I left everything behind and climbed into this canoe hoping I could find an answer with you. Isn't that patience enough?"
His paddle struck the water harder than before. "Yet you refuse to tell me where we're heading. You don't even care to ask what I seek."
The canoe rocked slightly.
Jamal adjusted his grip. "You told me you have been expecting me. It is either you give me a good reason now or I wil.." he paused and scanned the environment. "And this water is so vast I can't even think of jumping out and swimming away." He shook his head in disappointment then a bitter smile crossed his face. "I suggest we part ways as soon as we reach dry land. What I seek is more than what you're performing with me. I cannot continue to follow a Pathfinder who cannot even explain his own path clearly."
The Pathfinder merely smiled. "Patience is a virtue, my friend."
Jamal nearly sprang to his feet before remembering where he was. Middle of nowhere. Surrounded by water. He forced himself back down. "There you go again."
His voice sharpened. "If Patience wills it should stop being a virtue and become a medal that you wear on your necks, I care less." His frustration had begun to boil. "Do you take my gentleness for weakness?"
The paddle sliced aggressively through the water. "Do you mistake respect for mediocrity?"
Another stroke. "Do you think the gentle strike of a leopard is a symbol of cowardice?"
The words hung between them. Then amidst his continous ranting something caught his eye. Land. At first it was only the tops of palm trees appearing over the horizon.
Then came flocks of birds.
Then gradually the entire shoreline emerged from the distance.
Instantly, the irritation drained from his face. A smile returned.
The canoe glided toward a clearing along the shore. "You really love that sentence."
Jamal said jokingly despite himself.
The canoe scraped gently against the sand.
"If not for the fact that you greeted me properly when we met, I would've concluded those are the only words you know." He stepped onto dry land and stretched his legs. "But indeed, patience is a virtue."
The Pathfinder's smile widened.
Jamal glanced back at the water. "I kept complaining without realizing we were already close to land."
Then curiosity got the better of him.
"So..." He pointed inland. "Is this the village where the lady I seek lives?"
For the first time since they had met, the Pathfinder's expression darkened. The smile disappeared. His eyes settled on Jamal. "What part of the word "patience" do you fail to understand? You find it difficult to have patience with me, my friend."
He stepped onto the shore. "How then will you have patience with yourself?"
Jamal blinked.
"I only asked a question because I needed to know. I should probably take this canoe and continue my journey westward if perhaps I might find what I seek. How do I follow one who calls himself a pathfinder but I'm not yet convinced you are sure of your own individual path." He tapped his right hand on his head, the other arm akimbo. "But indeed, you must be someone of immense wisdom and knowledge of patience. I have as well decided to continue this journey with you that I might obtain from your wisdom as I search for the one I seek."
The Pathfinder looked toward the trees before speaking. "Impatience is the ancestor of the love for instant gratification. Some answers reveal themselves through patience." His gaze returned to Jamal. "They cannot be questioned into existence."
The words settled heavily between them.
Then he added, "You have to be patient with me and not question my decisions except I make mention of it to you?"
Jamal hesitated. The request sounded unreasonable. Yet everything around him had already abandoned reason. "I'll try."
The Pathfinder nodded. "And the next time you grow impatient with my decisions, our paths will separate."
Jamal grumbled under his breath but eventually nodded.
After they had both secured the canoe away from the bank the Pathfinder did something so unexpected that Jamal nearly shouted before it even happened. He walked into a nearby thatched hut, returned with a mattock, and at once began smashing the canoe.
Wood splintered.
"No!" Jamal shouted as he rushed forward.
Another strike followed. Then another.
The canoe collapsed into pieces.
"Why!!!?" He asked remorsefully.
The Pathfinder rested the mattock on top of the wreckage. A faint smile touched his lips. "We have barely begun, and already you are breaking your covenant."
Jamal froze. The realization struck harder than the destruction of the canoe.
The Pathfinder tilted his head slightly.
"Should this be where our journey together ends for the both of us?"
The thought terrified Jamal far more than the broken canoe.
"No." His answer came immediately.
"Please take me with you." He lowered his voice. The frustration was gone now. "You will find me among those patient, if Allah wills."
The Pathfinder studied him for a moment and gave him a knowing smile. Then nodded. "Then ask me nothing concerning my decisions until I choose to speak of them to you."
Jamal swallowed. Every instinct inside him wanted to object.
Instead, he nodded.
The Pathfinder turned toward the hut.
Jamal followed.
A low whistle escaped the Pathfinder's lips.
Moments later, a magnificent white horse emerged from behind the hut. Its coat gleaming like polished ivory. Its muscles rolled beneath its skin with effortless strength. The animal stopped before them and bowed its head as though responding to an old friend.
Jamal's eyes widened. "Well..." A smile slowly returned to his face. "That is certainly better than a canoe."
The Pathfinder mounted first.
Jamal climbed on behind him.
Without another word, the horse surged forward. Together they rode into the village through the winding forest path, leaving behind the shattered canoe and whatever certainty Jamal still possessed.
The white horse carried them through the forest path at a steady pace.
For a while, neither man spoke.
The Pathfinder seemed content with silence.
Jamal was not.
His gaze wandered constantly, searching every bend in the road, every clearing between the trees, every distant movement. Every passing face. But Nothing.
No purple gown he recognized.
No soulfully recognized figure.
Nothing.
Finally, he sighed.
"My friend."
The Pathfinder remained silent.
Jamal shifted in his seat. "I still do not understand why we are going this way."
No response came.
"The lady I seek travelled by water." His eyes searched the horizon again. "I watched her disappear across the river."
Still silence.
Jamal frowned.
The Pathfinder's eyes remained fixed ahead.
Jamal shook his head and leaned forward slightly. "The more this journey continues, the more it feels like I am moving away from the very thing I seek."
The Pathfinder finally spoke.
"What problem do you have with having Patience, my friend."
Jamal groaned. "There it is again."
The horse continued forward.
"Patience. Okay I am being patient."
"If I had a gold coin for every time you said that word, "patience is a virtue," I would be wealthier than a king." He mocked softly.
The Pathfinder smiled.
Jamal's own smile quickly faded.
His voice became softer. "The woman's words have not left me since."
The Pathfinder glanced back briefly. "You will find me when you find yourself."
Jamal's eyes widened.
The Pathfinder had repeated the exact words from the lady.
Before Jamal could question him, the older man faced forward again. "Patience is a virtue, my friend."
Jamal sighed deeply, then fell silent. Not because he wanted to. But because he is exhausted of questioning.
Hours later, they emerged into a village. Children ran between houses. Merchants traded loudly. Farmers returned from the fields. The horse moved calmly through the road.
Then a young rider appeared ahead. Perhaps sixteen to eighteen years of age.
Strong. Healthy. Confident. His own horse trotted proudly beneath him.
As he approached, the Pathfinder pulled on the reins. The horse stopped.
The young rider slowed as well. The two stared at one another and the young man's expression hardened.
The Pathfinder climbed down. Without warning. Without explanation. Without hesitation.
He walked up to the young man and struck him once with a single blow. The rider fell dead from his horse instantly.
Jamal's breath caught in his throat. His mind refused to process what his eyes had witnessed. The horse beneath him shifted nervously. No one around from among the passersby seems to have seen what has just happened. "What have you done?!" The words escaped before he could stop them.
The Pathfinder turned slowly. The disappointment on his face appeared before he even spoke. "What part of patience with my decisions do you not understand, my friend."
Jamal immediately realized what had happened. The question. The covenant. He had broken it again.
The pathfinder's voice remained calm. "The next time you question my decision and do not wait upon me to explain, our paths shall separate. Then I will let you understand that which you could not have patience." The words landed heavily.
Jamal lowered his head. The anger remained. The confusion never dissipated.
But something else had appeared.
Fear.
Not fear of the Pathfinder. Fear of losing him. Because despite everything, he still felt the man was leading him somewhere important. He took a deep breath. Then another.
Finally he spoke. "I apologize."
The Pathfinder mounted the horse again.
Jamal hesitated for a moment, then climbed back onto the horse.
"Patience is a virtue, my friend." The pathfinder repeated. But this time Jamal simply nodded.
The journey continued further into the town and neither spoke again. By sunset they reached another village.
Their throats were dry. Their stomachs empty.
The people of the village watched them arrive.
The Pathfinder greeted them. No greeting was returned. They requested water. A door closed. They requested food. A woman turned away. An old man ignored them entirely. The village offered them nothing.
Jamal clenched his jaw. Yet he remembered his promise. Not a single question left his mouth.
Then, to his disbelief, the Pathfinder walked toward a damaged wall standing near the edge of the village. Without being asked. Without payment. Without gratitude. He began rebuilding it. Stone after stone. Brick after brick.
Jamal's frustration returned.
The villagers who had refused them water now stood watching. Some even mocked them. Still the Pathfinder worked. Eventually the final stone settled into place. Then silence followed.
Jamal stared at the wall. Then at the villagers. Then back at the wall. The question escaped him before he could stop it. "If you wished, surely you could have demanded payment for this."
The moment the words left his mouth, regret followed.
The Pathfinder turned to look at him.
And Jamal knew. Their journey had come to an end.
The Pathfinder's face carried neither anger nor disappointment. Only certainty. "This is the parting between me and you, my friend."
Jamal lowered his gaze. The words struck him harder than he expected. He wanted to apologize. To explain himself. To promise once more. But something told him it was too late. The covenant had been broken. Again.
The Pathfinder walked toward the repaired wall and rested his palm upon its weathered stones. "But before we part ways," he said softly, "I shall explain that over which you could not remain patient."
Jamal listened attentively.
The Pathfinder pointed toward the distant shore from which they had come.
"As for the canoe."
Jamal's eyes widened slightly. The memory returned immediately.
The shattered wood. The broken hull. The canoe he desperately wanted.
The Pathfinder continued.
"Shortly after our departure, a family would arrive at that shore."
Jamal remained silent.
"A father. A mother. And their newborn child."
The Pathfinder's gaze seemed to drift beyond the horizon itself.
"The father needed to seek employment in the northern lands and intended to migrate with his family."
Jamal nodded slowly.
"They possessed no means of travel except they would eventually come across that canoe."
The pieces began moving inside Jamal's mind.
"If the canoe had remained intact, they would have sailed north."
The Pathfinder paused.
"And if they had sailed north, they would have crossed the territory of a tyrant king."
A cold silence settled over the air.
"A king who seized the properties of strangers and followers altogether."
"A king who enslaved entire families."
"A king who sacrificed newborn children."
Jamal felt a chill crawl through his chest.
The Pathfinder continued.
"The family knew none of this."
"They only wanted opportunity."
"They only wanted a better future." The old man smiled faintly. "So they will never migrate today, nor tomorrow, till the father pass away. Because my Lord sees what lies beyond the horizon."
Jamal's gaze lowered.
"The child they carried had been destined for something greater."
The Pathfinder's eyes brightened.
"He will grow."
"He will learn."
"He will become strong."
"And when he reaches twenty-five years of age, he shall rise and lead his people against that tyrant and become a means through which countless oppressed people shall be freed and the reign of tyranny shall be suppressed forever."
Jamal's lips parted slightly.
The Pathfinder nodded.
"Had they migrated that day, the child would have been seized and sacrificed before he learned to walk."
Silence followed.
"The canoe was destroyed so that a destiny could be preserved."
The Pathfinder looked toward the sky.
"That is the unseen wisdom of my Lord."
Jamal swallowed hard.
For the first time, he felt ashamed of his anger at the riverside.
The Pathfinder then turned toward the road.
"As for the young rider."
Jamal's chest tightened.
The image of the boy falling from his horse returned instantly.
The Pathfinder's voice became softer.
"His parents are among the devoted servants of Allah."
"People of prayer."
"People of gratitude."
"People whose hearts remember their Lord."
The Pathfinder paused.
"But the young man would grow up to become a source of grief for them."
"He would grow in arrogance."
"In oppression."
"In rebellion."
"He would lead them toward sorrow, heartbreak, and eventually into disbelief."
Jamal lowered his head.
"My Lord intended for them one better." The Pathfinder smiled gently. "A child more righteous."
"A child more merciful."
"A child who will become the coolness of their eyes."
Jamal felt his resistance dissolve. Not because he fully understood. But because he now understood enough.
The Pathfinder then placed his hand upon the repaired wall.
"And as for this wall."
Jamal looked toward it.
"Beneath it lies a trust."
"A treasure belonging to two orphan boys."
"Their father was among the righteous."
"When he died, he left behind something valuable for them."
The Pathfinder tapped the wall gently.
"The wall had weakened."
"If it collapsed now, the people of this village would discover the treasure and consume it without guilt."
Jamal glanced toward the villagers.
The same villagers who had refused them water.
The same villagers who had refused them food.
The same villagers who had mocked them.
"The treasure remains hidden until the boys reach maturity." The Pathfinder smiled. "And thus the provision of Allah reaches them at the appointed time."
The Pathfinder's explanation came to an end. Silence settled between them.
The evening breeze drifted lazily through the village.
Jamal stood motionless.
The canoe. The young rider. The wall. Every event he had questioned. Every decision he had judged. Every complaint he had made.
All of them carried meanings hidden beyond what his eyes could see. For the first time since the journey began, he found himself without a question.
The Pathfinder smiled. A calm smile.
He looked directly into Jamal's eyes.
For the first and only time throughout their entire journey, he spoke his name. "This is my message, Jamal."
And then he vanished. Not gradually. Not slowly.
Instantly. As though he had never been there.
Jamal's heart pounded.
His eyes darted around wildly as he called out for the pathfinder. But no reply came. Then the world he was in itself began to tremble. The village blurred. The trees dissolved. The wall disappeared. At once Jamal's eyes flew open.
His chest rose sharply. Moonlight spilled through the window and stretched across the room.
For a few moments he lay motionless beneath his blanket, staring at the ceiling while his heart gradually settled.
"SubhanAllah," He muttered low.
He had encountered that veiled figure before. Not once. Not twice. Not usually visible as it has been today. And the figure has never appeared on a boat.
"What sort of dream is this?"
For the last four years, she had appeared in his dreams at different times. Sometimes months apart. Sometimes only once in an entire year. He had always dismissed it as imagination. But tonight was different. Tonight, the dream had felt deliberate. Purposeful. As though it had been trying to tell him something. It was the journey with the pathfinder that made it more vivid. More real.
A dull ache spread through his body.
He rubbed his face and sat upright on the edge of the bed. "Nothing stops the flow of water. You will find me when you find yourself." He repeated the words quietly. The sentence felt less like a dream and more like a memory. Countless blurry memories from the dream began to flashback.
Suddenly, a voice called from outside his window. "Assalamu Alaikum, Jamal!"
Jamal blinked rapidly as reality rushed back into place. It was AbdulAzeez. His revert neighbor.
"The mosque is filling already!" AbdulAzeez called out. "Are you not coming?"
Jamal glanced toward the window. The Adhan had long finished. The dream had pulled him so deeply that he had not even heard it rise from the minaret. That alone unsettled him. He was never one to oversleep Fajr. Usually, he was the one waking AbdulAzeez. "Wa Alaikumus Salam," Jamal replied. His voice sounded distant even to himself. "Go ahead. I'll meet you there."
A pause followed.
Then AbdulAzeez spoke again. "Are you alright?"
Jamal smiled faintly. Even from outside, his friend had sensed something was wrong.
"I am fine."
The answer sounded unconvincing.
Another pause.
Then AbdulAzeez shrugged. "Don't be long."
Footsteps retreated from the window.
Silence returned.
Jamal remained seated for several moments. His thoughts drifted back to the dream.
To the river. The canoe. The Pathfinder.
The woman.
Most of all; The words. 'You will find me when you find yourself.'
Something inside him stirred. A feeling he had ignored for years. A feeling that had now become impossible to dismiss.
He needed answers. And there was only one person he knew who might have them.
His Shaykh.
Slowly, he pulled the blanket aside and lowered his feet onto the cold tiled floor.
The instant his skin touched the tiles, it felt as though he had returned fully to earth.
"Bismillah." He whispered softly. The room no longer felt dreamlike.
The weight of reality settled upon him once more.
He reached for his prayer mat.
"Tomorrow? no. Today. As soon as the sun rises, i would begin preparations. I have to visit my shaykh. I have to return to Nur Afiya." He thought to himself.
He had fled Nur Afiya nine years ago; on a night he nearly lost what he kept sacred.
He had not set foot in that town since he was eighteen. The thought alone tightened something in his chest.
"Nine years. Nine entire years. Who knows what has changed?"
He muttered and pick up his tasbih.
A familiar name suddenly crossed his mind like a flash of lightning. 'Almeida.'
Jamal froze as the memories threatened to surface. Then he shook his head.
"Past is past." He murmured and rose to his feet. "A man who chains himself to the results of yesterday is nothing more than a walking corpse."
His hand rested on the door handle.
"Moreover; I wasn't the one at fault. Although I never intend on returning, but this dream needs an immediate explanation.
He opened the door and stepped into the cool dawn air. The mosque lights glowed softly in the distance. And somewhere beyond the horizon lay Nur Afiya.
Waiting.