Religion does not teach...

The car went through a speed breaker and Jamil and Stephen, who were sitting in the back seat, hit their heads on the roof of the car. Jamil shouted, “Sir! Watch how you drive!” The school principal, who was sitting in the driver’s seat, looked in the rearview mirror and said, “Sorry, son.” Stephen kept patting his head but didn’t even utter a word.

The convoy of the school principal, ‘Naseem Adil’ and two students, ‘Jamil’ and ‘Stephen’, were heading towards a local school where a tehsil-level Naat Khawani competition was being held.

Those who performed well in the competition were to compete at the district level. 'Jamil' was the only child of a large landowner in the area, who had never been touched by civilization. In school, the students and even the teachers trembled with fear of him.

He was a heavy build. In contrast, his classmate Stephen Christ belonged to a poor family. He was a very weak man.

Stephen used to recite prayers during the service in the church. His school fees were waived on the condition that he would help the principal in his work. Jamil was representing the school in the competition. Stephen came along to take care of his 'equipment'.

Upon reaching the destination, the car stopped. The boy Jasim got out of the car with a packet of chips in his hand.

The principal also accompanied him. He was giving him instructions regarding the competition. The boy kept his attention focused on the packet of chips and kept shaking his head. Stephen was holding his classmate's equipment and was following the two men.

The three of them reached the designated hall and took their seats. The competition began with the recitation of the Holy Quran. Then the competition began in earnest.

Schools from all over the tehsil had come to participate in the competition. The voice of each naat reciter was unparalleled. Meanwhile, Jamil whispered in Naseem Adil's ear, "Sir! I have to go to the bathroom." Naseem glared at the boy angrily. "Sir! What is my fault in this?" Jamil said rudely. The principal stammered in worry, "No, no, son! No problem."

"You...go to the bathroom." Fat Jamil hurriedly got up from the chair, handed the chips to Stephen, and ran towards the bathroom. Naseem sat down, holding his head. Stephen, who was sitting silently, could feel his elder's anxiety.

Meanwhile, the naat khawans were coming and going on the stage. Jamil's name was called. Principal Naseem looked around. Jamil's name was not visible around.

Gritting his teeth, he went to the stage and requested the organizers to give him some time. Due to the shortage of time, this was not possible. The principal came to Stephen, wearing a cuff, and asked him to find Jamil. The Christian boy ran towards the bathroom. Jamil was not there. He returned and informed the principal about the situation. The principal's anxiety increased further.

He clenched his fists and fell into thought.

In such a situation, a warning was given from the stage that if Jamil did not come, the school would be considered out of the competition. The ground gave way under Naseem Adil's feet. He asked Stephen, "Stephen, do you know how to recite Naat?" Stephen said in shock, "Yes... Yes, sir!" "Okay. Go recite Naat." "In my head?" Stephen asked in surprise.

"Yes, yes! You." The principal said, almost shouting. Stephen quickly walked towards the stage. He reached the stage. He adjusted the mic and started reciting the Naat. There was complete silence in the hall except for the sound of the Naat. Tears welled up in the eyes of some of the audience, lost in Stephen's joy. As soon as the Naat ended, everyone involuntarily shouted, "Jazak Allah." Stephen got off the stage and walked shakily towards his chair.

Many eyes were following him. But Stephen kept walking with lowered eyes.

When he reached his seat, the principal patted him. Jamil was standing with the principal. Tears were pouring from his eyes. "Why did you recite Naat?" Jamil asked in an angry tone. Stephen was completely dumbfounded. "I ask you, Choudhary, how did you find time to recite Naat?"

Seeing this heat, Naseem intervened and took the boys to a corner. He tried his best to cool down Jamil, but Jamil was not going to be quiet in any way. Stephen burst into tears out of fear. Jamil was being repeatedly warned, "I will tell my father. If you do it, you will regret it. If you do it, you will regret it." Stephen kept listening with his head bowed.

The next few days were very difficult for the oppressed Stephen. Stephen's family received death threats from Jamil's father. The situation reached such a point that the Christians were warned that their village would be set on fire. Poor Stephen's concern doubled. Many people in the community also boycotted his family. The local police proved to be a silent spectator in this matter.

Because the police officers kept changing on a signal from Jamil's father.

Stephen was absent from school for several days. He had stopped leaving the house. One day, after office hours, the school peon came to call him to school. The frail Stephen covered his face with a cloth, hid from the eyes of the people, and reached the principal's office. He sat on the chair in front of the principal's desk.

There was no conversation between the two. Finally, Naseem started talking. "According to the judges' decision, you have qualified for the next round. I have put your case before them. You can participate in the competition as Stephen Christ. But I will not be able to go with you." There was silence for a few moments. Principal Naseem Adil started talking again. "It is up to you to participate in the competition or not."

This will be your personal decision. The school will have nothing to do with it.” Saying this, the principal rested both elbows on the table and held his head with both hands. Innocent Stephen got up from his chair and left through the door.

On Sunday, after the service at the church, Stephen went to see the high priest. He put the whole matter before the priest and asked whether he should participate in the competition in the current situation or not.

The priest listened to his case carefully. After taking a deep breath, he addressed Stephen. "My son! Praise is basically praise. And if there is no element of falsehood in praise, there is no harm in it. Remember, if you think you are right, then your success is certain. I hope you will make the right decision." Stephen thanked the priest, hugged him and left.

The day of the district competition arrived. Stephen, wearing a mask, arrived with his friend two hours before the scheduled time of the ceremony because word had spread that Jamil, his father, and armed goons would be present at the ceremony. Their intentions were not good at all. Stephen went to a quiet corner of the hall and sat down. By God's grace, the competition began. All the naat reciters were happy.

But Stephen's attention was elsewhere. He was afraid that Jamil and the goons would storm the hall. At that moment, he heard the people sitting next to him whispering that there were goons armed with sticks and hockey sticks standing outside the hall. Stephen's ears felt like they were pricking with needles.

Soon, Stephen's name was called on the stage. He walked towards the stage, his feet filling up. The sharp eyes of the people were staring at him as if he were committing a sin.

As soon as Stephen reached the stage, silence fell everywhere. The sound of the fans in the hall could be heard clearly. Stephen began to recite Naat. The people sitting in the next seats cried while listening to the last verses. After finishing the Naat, Stephen glanced at the judge and sat down on a chair near the stage with his head bowed. Until the next Naat reciter arrived, the sobs of the people sitting in the next seats of the hall could be heard.

After two and a half hours, the competition came to an end. There was still some time left for the results to be announced. A stampede broke out and thugs carrying sticks entered the hall. The thin and well-groomed Stephen was now at peace. He came to the stage holding the results file. He was a renowned scholar of the province. He could not have been more than sixty years old. He was of medium height. And his white beard gave his personality awe and glory.

He was familiar with the current situation. After taking a quick look at the audience, he took off his glasses and began to speak, "Islam is a religion of peace. Religion has worship, beliefs, jihad... everything. But religion begins with the Most Gracious and Most Merciful. His mercy is from the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him). Here, prayers are offered even after eating stones. Why is there no more patience left in us?

"The judge's voice filled the air. "If a non-Muslim praises our Prophet (peace be upon him), what could be more proud? We are commanded to obey the Prophet. We are not allowed to imitate him even in the slightest." Sobs were rising from the hall.

The judge wiped his eyes, put on his glasses, and began to speak again. "As a nation, we have a lot of room for improvement."

For God's sake, do not defame religion. Considering the shortage of time, I would now like to announce the results... The third position has been secured by 'Danish Ali' from Falcon School." Voices of Jazakallah were heard in the hall. The judge then said, "Second position... Zahid Iqbal from Army Public School." Jazakallah echoed from the audience.

Munsif took off his glasses and said, “There is a line from Iqbal that says, ‘Religion does not teach, but to keep quarrels among yourselves.’” Munsif continued, saying, “The first prize of this competition goes to… Stephen Masih of Ghazali School.” Jazakallah was being chanted in every language in the hall. Stephen received the certificate from Munsif with moist eyes. The great scholar patted him.

After coming down from the stage, Stephen was receiving applause from the fans in the crowd when he encountered Jamil. There were tears of regret in Jamil’s eyes. His father and all the goons with him were ashamed. Jamil hugged Stephen and all the goons’ weapons fell to the ground