He was standing on the plains of Hashr, the Day of Judgment. The sun was merciless. The scholars were holding their heavy ink pots and scrolls, their faces pale with the terror of their own deeds. Kings were weeping as their crowns melted.
That night, Zaid had a dream.
“Amma Jaan,” Zaid wept, falling at her feet. “Teach me. Teach me how to love like that. My knowledge has made my heart a stone. Teach me the way of the Meera Wali .” meera waliyo ke imam naat
It was the Prophet Muhammad (ﷺ).
Amma Jaan smiled, her toothless grin a window to heaven. She placed her hand on his head and whispered the only lesson she knew: He was standing on the plains of Hashr, the Day of Judgment
The Prophet (ﷺ) then looked at Zaid. “You asked her if I would reject her,” he said. “Tell me, Zaid. If a drowning man calls out to you in a broken language, do you teach him phonetics? Or do you throw him the rope?” Kings were weeping as their crowns melted