We would regularly resolve—with solemn determination—that from tomorrow, without fail, we shall embark on a disciplined regime of walking, a gentle yet effective pursuit of fitness. Each time, however, the routine of daily obligations, the pressing nature of worldly affairs, would overshadow this resolve. And so, days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and yet the intention remained unfulfilled, our walks perpetually postponed to a tomorrow that never arrived.
But the Divine, in His infinite mercy, does weave miracles into the most mundane of moments.
It so happened that my determined companion, in a seemingly casual encounter, met the elderly daughter of a retired General from the Pakistan Army. Despite her advanced age, she exuded an admirable vitality. In a conversation that was both gentle and profoundly persuasive, she said to him:
“Even at my age, I make it a point to walk regularly and maintain my physical well-being. You are still young—why invite illness through neglect? Begin your walks and take your health seriously.”
That very evening, during our customary rendezvous at the coast, my companion—restless and visibly stirred—greeted me and instantly began recounting his encounter with the elderly lady. With a tone brimming with newfound resolve, he declared, “Doctor Sahib, no more delays! From tomorrow, we begin our walks, together.”
And indeed, the following evening brought with it a fresh chapter. The news of our actual commitment to walking, after months of mere intention, created quite a buzz among our friends. At last, our walking journey began—first along the scenic track of Sea View, and then the serene pathways of Zamzama Park. While we walked, the rest of our companions would often wait patiently—sometimes two, sometimes three, sometimes even four of them—either on the concluding wall of the Sea View track or amidst the greens of the park, awaiting our return.
This became our new normal: an evening walk followed by cherished companionship.
One such evening, we once again chose the Sea View track for our walk. Upon arriving, my companion and I began our stroll while three of our friends took their usual positions on the wall, engaged in their relaxed banter, awaiting our return. After precisely one hour and sixteen minutes of walking, we rejoined them.
As we settled in, exchanging our usual jovial chatter, one of our friends activated his mobile camera and took a selfie with me. To my astonishment, the photo captured an exquisite, almost surreal nightscape of the seashore. Noticing my surprise, he explained, “Sir, this is the Night Mode Camera.”
And thus began an impromptu photoshoot under the stars. One by one, in various poses and combinations, we took turns capturing memories—our little circle of five, reveling in friendship and technology.
But amid our tenth photograph, something unexpected occurred.
Two transgender individuals approached along the wall, their presence quiet yet unmistakable. Concerned that their movement might disrupt our shot, I politely addressed them:
“Kindly wait a moment, we’re just about to take our final photo.”
They obliged with grace. As our photo was taken, one of them gently requested, in a tone both humble and hopeful:
“Could I have a picture with you as well?”
An uncomfortable silence followed. Despite the humility of the request, none of my friends responded. Their sudden stillness betrayed hesitation, even avoidance.
Breaking that silence, I turned to the individual and said warmly, “Of course, please join us. We would be honored.”
His face lit up—not with pride, but with a fragile, flickering smile that had long been deprived of acceptance. He took a step forward. But as he did, I noticed my friends retreat. One climbed down the wall, another turned his back and walked away, and the third, under the guise of helpfulness, took the camera from our friend saying, “Sir, let me take the photo.”
In a matter of seconds, I was the only one left standing beside him.
The transgender person halted, his expression shifting from a brief moment of joy to deep sorrow. I could see it—his face betrayed the anguish of rejection, a familiar pain he had likely endured too often. From a participant, he had become an outcast once again.
And in that moment—I couldn’t let him face it alone.
With a smile, I extended my hand and said, “Today, I, Dr. Zafeer Siddiqui, will have the honor of a picture with you.”
He approached quietly, cautiously. His eyes betrayed the disbelief of being treated with dignity. I placed a comforting hand on his head and whispered,
“You are, without doubt, one of the finest creations of Allah Almighty. There is no revulsion here. Only respect.”
A photograph was taken—one that captured not just two people but a moment of silent revolution, of unspoken compassion, of dignity restored.
A Lesson for Us All
Islam is not merely to be recited—it is to be lived. The teachings of love, respect, and inclusion are not confined to scripture but must be embodied in our daily actions. Transgender individuals are also the creations of Allah, and worthy of the same love, mercy, and dignity that we so passionately claim for ourselves.
Figures like Mahak Malik, a transgender woman who now actively preaches the message of Islam, and many others like her, stand as testaments to the beauty that can emerge when we extend kindness instead of judgment.
My Personal Stance & Question 🖤
If you claim to love Allah, then why do you shy away from loving His creation?
A Humble Request
I urge you all—friends, thinkers, believers—to reflect and share your thoughts in the comments below. Let your intellect and your conscience guide your responses. Speak not merely from emotion, but from understanding.
Let us strive not only to read the Holy Book but to embody its teachings in our hearts, our minds, and our actions.
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