The Light of Absolution

A long time ago, in a little town in Arabia, there lived a youthful man named Humayun. He was known all through the village—not for goodness or benevolence, but for evil, inconvenience, and sin. He stole from individuals, lied without delay, harmed others, and lived a life totally detached from Allah. In case there was any wrongdoing, Humayun had likely done it.

His mother, Fatimah, was a devout lady. She implored five times a day, perused the Qur'an routinely, and continually made du'a for her child.

“Oh Allah,” she would whisper through her tears each night,

“Guide my child to Your way. Relax his heart and bring him back to You.”

The neighbors would jeer and say,

“Why do you still supplicate for him? He's misplaced. A boy like that can never change.”

But she would grin tenderly and answer,

“My Master is continuously tuning in. He will not let my supplications go unanswered.”

One day, an unused imam arrived at the town mosque. His title was Imam Ilyas. He was known for his shrewdness, lowliness, and particularly his love for the youth. He accepted that indeed the most exceedingly bad individual may be guided in case somebody comes out with adore rather than judgment. Imam Ilyas would frequently walk around the town and talk with youthful individuals. He would inquire about their dreams, their fears, their torment. Gradually, he started to listen to stories almost Humayun. Rather than maintaining a strategic distance from him like others did, he looked for him.

When he at long last met Humayun, he grinned and said,

“Do you know how much Allah cherishes you?”

Humayun chuckled sharply.

“Me? I'm a heathen. I've done everything wrong. There's no trust for somebody like me.”

Imam Ilyas answered delicately,

“Allah says within the Qur'an:

'Say, O My workers who have transgressed against themselves, don't lose hope of the leniency of Allah. In fact, Allah pardons all sins.'”

(Surah Az-Zumar, Ayah 53)

Humayun stood quietly. No one had ever talked to him like that. That night, his mother took note he was calmer than usual. He didn't go out. He sat by himself, gazing at the stars. At that point he turned to her and inquired,

“Do you think Allah might excuse somebody like me?”

Fatimah's eyes filled with tears.

“My child, Allah's kindness is more prominent than all your sins combined. In case you earnestly return to Him, He will pardon you.”

That night, for the first time in his life, Humayun stood in prayer amid Tahajjud. Within the calm of the night, with no one around, he broke down in despair and cried like a child. “Ya Allah… I have wronged myself. I have disregarded You. But I need to alter. If you don't mind, excuse me. It would be ideal if you direct me.”

The following morning, he went straight to the mosque. Imam Ilyas invited him warmly and started instructing him the Qur'an, small by small. They would sit after Fajr supplication, learning little prayers, examining stories of the Prophets, and reflecting on Allah's names and attributes. As days passed, the individuals within the town started to take note of an alter. Humayun now has not meandered the lanes with bad company. He began making a difference in the destitute, repairing walls for the elderly, and investing time within the mosque. He dodged lies, returned things he had once stolen, and apologized to those he had harmed.

One day, a youthful man inquired him,

“What happened to you? How did you alter so much?”

Humayun grinned and answered,

“It all changed the day I realized that Allah hadn't given up on me—so why ought to I grant up on myself? His leniency is more prominent than my sins.”

A long time went by. Humayun's transformation was not fair—it was genuine. He in the long run got to be an educator of Islam, traveling from town to town. He talked particularly to youthful individuals, since he caught on the battles they confronted. He would tell them,

“I was like you. I thought I was past trust. But Allah never turns absent somebody who earnestly returns to Him.”

He got to be known not just as a researcher but as an image of recovery and trust. Individuals would say,

“That's Humayun—the one who strolled out of obscurity and into the light.”

_______________________________________________ Ethical of the Story: No one is ever as distant from Allah's benevolence. No matter how numerous botches we've made, Allah is continuously prepared to forgive—if we earnestly return to Him. As Allah says within the Qur'an:

“Indeed, My leniency includes all things.”

(Surah Al-A'raf, 7:

156)

So never lose trust. The entryway of atonement is continuously open.