In the midst of the bustle at the counter, where everyone was engaged in conversations, my eyes fell on him—a young boy. When he reached the counter, he paused for a moment. Due to the heat and the fatigue of the people, we had to keep our explanations brief and concise. Our conversations with visitors rarely lasted more than a couple of minutes. I concisely explained our campaign to him. But he stood there, his eyes longing for more information. I talked about our scholarly and research-based approach, our humanitarian efforts, and our international activities. He was so interested that he even gave me his phone number, hoping he could hold the Urgent Prayer (Istighatha) Gathering in his city.
My explanations were almost ended, but he was still standing there. With a sweet accent, he confessed, “I don’t perform the daily prayers, is that okay?” I reassured him that it wasn’t about praying or not. We all have deep questions in mind: where we came from, what we are supposed to do here, and what will come of us in the end. Some ignore these questions, distract themselves with worldly affairs, but others won’t rest until they find answers. When I said that, his face lit up. He wanted to help our campaign, online or in person, he didn’t care. He just wanted to be involved.
It made me think about how our education system and how we present religion can make eager souls feel distant from prayer. This boy walked eighty kilometers for Imam Hussain, with deep love for Imam Mahdi in his heart. He was ready to do anything for him. How could a heart so filled with devotion be so distant from prayer? If he only knew the peace, the solace it offered, wouldn’t he embrace it?
