Like Ripe Fruit
A Jar of Jam - Like Ripe Fruit
One of the friends who was commander of a squadron brought two fighters with him. As fate would have it, they were medical students and didn’t come to the frontline via legal manners. The Cooperation didn’t issue card and dog tag for them. Now he turned to me to help them in this matter, but he forgot I’m stricter. “They have to go and return here with legal registration”, I said. They got disappointed. One of them turned towards Kiblah1. “O’ Lord, behold that I have come to sacrifice myself in defending Islam, but this man tells us we cannot”, he said. When he said “this man” my body shivered. I told myself who are you to dictate something to someone who came all this way to here? He wanted to leave and I thought I have to find a way to eat my word. “Let’s make a deal”, I said. He stopped. “What kind of deal?”, he replied. “Intercession”, I said. He asked what that means. I told them if something happened to them, I was responsible and it was likely I would be questioned. I would shoulder the responsibility in this world and they should intercede in the other in return. They accepted. I asked others to witness that they promise to intercede for me in the afterlife. We shook hands. I wrote a letter saying “in the name of God, please issue cards and dog tags for these .two men”. It went so A few days later, there was an operation. T he following day, my friend who was a commander came with dusty face and eyes as red as blood. “What happened to our under-contract friends?”, I asked. “Mortar”, he replied. I asked what that meant. He was on the verge of crying. “A mortar-shell hit one of them directly. T here’s nothing left of him to return to his family, not even powder. He was ready to be martyred just like ripe fruit ready for .the picking He was right. On that day, the tears of his wet eyes showed he was not going to .survive
