Elahi Dillam: My God Within a Dancer

By Yousuf Azimi

A heartbroken, alcoholic Prince falls in love with a Sufi who claims to be Nashenas, a man with no name. The Prince sets on a difficult journey with the Sufi, all in the name of love. Somewhere along the path, the Prince is brought down to his knees to beg, he escapes his castle and leaves his city, he walks in the wilderness that appears before him and the Prince never returns
Prince Kareem, son of Ameer of Afghanistan, must become nothing before he finds love again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: May 21, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524634308

Yousuf Azimi

Yousuf Azimi was born in the city of Kabul, Afghanistan. He is currently pursuing his dental degree from Pakistan, but writing takes up most of his time. At the age of nineteen, he published his first book, “The Road to Solitude”.

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© 2016 Yousuf Azimi. All rights reserved.

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Published by AuthorHouse 05/20/2016

ISBN: 978-1-5246-3429-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-3430-8 (e)

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Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgements

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

DEDICATION

To my mother who is fighting a battle against cancer... You are braver than you know, you are stronger than the woman you see in the mirror. It is because of you that I am here.

I love you.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

This book would've been impossible without a few people. First of all, my father, Captain Jahed Azimi, without whom all of my writings would be rotting somewhere in my drawer.

A warm thanks to Dr. Tariq Akbar for listening to my endless stories and giving his ideas. A big thanks to Ameer Akbar and Dr. Noman Shah for helping me bring my ideas to life, without you two I would've left the front page blank.

INTRODUCTION

Elahi dillam is about you, me, and almost everyone else in this world who has ever loved another soul. It shows the spiritual hardships we face and the meaning behind all of it. Elahi dillam, Oh God, my Heart, shows the sacrifices needed to reach the ultimate destination of becoming One.

God is love, and love resides in our hearts... God is within us...

1

A few hundred years ago in the city of Kabul.

The night was dark and cold. The air had a hunger for more and more wind, howling through the narrow streets. Some tents gave up to the strength of the beast, some stood firm, fighting a battle meant to lose. The brick houses were strong and steady. But who could be sure... The moon tried hard to fight off the clouds. It struggled hard trying to cast its borrowed light onto the city of Kabul. Nearby, some dogs were barking, some donkeys were braying, and everything surrendered to the will of the storm.

Kareem

It is late, but I am not drunk yet. I am drunk, but I am not asleep yet.

I hid the bottle of wine back into my chapan and wrapped myself with my shawl taking care to hide my face with it. It was getting cold and being drunk did not help me walk any straight. 'Go home brother! It's going to rain soon!' I heard someone yell.

Where is home? I thought.

I saw a narrow alley that had a shed where I could lie down. I slowly dragged my feet towards it.

Another lightning.

Another howl.

Another fall.

Ah, who cares? Just lie down here.

No... I have to move. I would fall sick and die.

But you want to die.

Yes, but not in the middle of the bazaar with a bottle of wine hidden under my robe!

I slowly reached the shed and sat down. I took another sip and looked around me. What a perfect ending to such a beautiful day. It was surprising I still had my sarcasm with me. Maybe I hadn't had enough to drink.

Baseer

I ran as hard as I could. I ignored the dogs when they barked at me, or the tents that threatened to block my way or the rain that made the ground slippery. I had to run or I was a dead man.

My legs were about to give up on me. I prayed they wouldn't, considering the dire circumstances I would have to face.

Dire circumstances? Was I fooling myself? Death is what I would face!

So I ran. I ran, ignoring the ache in my legs, or the protest of my heart, or even the dogs that chased me. I ran till I saw a small alley. I turned to it and hid behind a shed, panting and sweating, despite the cold chill surrounding me.

Shukur, I sighed and placed my head on the hard wall, catching my breath. I reached for my pocket and felt the cold touch of the artifact that I had stolen. As I was about to take it out to savor the moment, I heard the grunt of a man. Face down; back resting on the wall behind him, legs placed at awkward angles and a shawl that covered his face, I couldn't be sure if he was dead or alive. Please be dead. What if he called out?

I wasn't sure I could run any longer...

Kareem

Perfect! Just as I thought I could get some rest! What if he recognizes me?

I didn't have any money to tell bribe him.

Father would be furious! Just keep your face hidden and you should be fine!

And that's what I did.

'Salam aleikum,' he said in a hushed voice. He was panting like a dog.

'Walaikum salam,' I replied. Knowing I couldn't act asleep any longer.

'Quite a night huh?' I could see him give an awkward smile from the corner of my eyes. It was the same fake smile that I was so used to portraying. The same smile that I was taught since I can remember.

'Quite a night.' I repeated.

'The wind is fading away.' He said, looking around. He took a quick glance at the streets. I didn't reply.

Was that enough to tell him I didn't want to speak? I was sure I sounded drunk. I could hear myself slurring.

Baseer

Just act normal. You have nothing to fear. He's just a beggar or a servant.

But he wasn't dressed like one. I could see that his chapan was new and expensive, but the shawl that he wore to hide his chapan was old. Is he a thief like me? No, no. A thief wouldn't have the luxury to be drunk. Oh yes, he was drunk. And it was not the slurring that gave it away. It was the bottle that I could see through a hole in his shawl.

Well, as long as he is drunk I can stay here and wait for the guards to leave. As soon as I sense they're gone, I will be out of his way.

And that is what they did. None talked to the other. The rain got worse and the lightning gave them tiny moment during which they could see each other. Well, Baseer couldn't see anything but a drunken man with a shawl over his face, but Kareem could see Baseer very clearly. He sensed something. He sensed fear in Baseer. The same fear that he had. He sensed hesitation. The same that he possessed.

Kareem

What is there about him that I find interesting? He is a beggar for all I know. Or a servant. Or maybe a thief, judging by his entrance.

But somehow, I didn't mind his presence. I didn't welcome it... but I cannot say I had a bad taste in my mouth.

'What is your name?' I finally asked, gathering strength, making sure I slurred as little as possible. I still kept my head low.

'Baseer,' He replied, clearly happy with the sound of something apart from the wind and the chattering of the rain.

No last name I suppose. Yes, beggar or thief.

'And what is your name?' he asked.

Why hadn't I thought that he would ask my name before asking his?!

I crammed up my mind for a name. Any name. Any name apart from mine...

'Kareem,' I said, having given up.

I am very drunk.

To my good fortune, he didn't ask my last name. And even if he did, I wouldn't answer.

'Kareem,' he repeated. 'A very strong name, I must say.'

I wished he wasn't referring to the Kareem.

Baseer

Kareem... Your chapan is expensive, yet you wear a dirty shawl to hide it. You are clean and well mannered, yet you're drunk in the middle of a storm. And, most of all, why do I have a feeling I've heard that voice before?

The act went on from Baseer and Kareem really thought he was safe in that little shed. The