The Clear Evidence Perhaps young girls are also listening. This incident took place in the 1980s. At that time, I was studying in Madinah and had come to India for a week for a specific reason. When it was time to return, I did not get a direct seat. In fact, at that time, there was either no direct flight from Delhi to Jeddah, or if there was, I didn’t get a seat on it. The seat I was assigned required me to first take an American Airlines flight from Delhi to Karachi. From Karachi, I had to switch flights to reach Riyadh, and then from Riyadh, I had to take another flight to Madinah. It was about three in the afternoon when I boarded the plane, burning with a fever and feeling very unwell. My only intention upon taking my seat was to close my eyes and try to rest—I planned to take a tablet, drink some tea, and sleep. But Allah had something else planned. The seat next to mine was occupied by a Sikh gentleman who had been traveling for a long time. He had no one to talk to during his six to seven-hour journey and was eagerly waiting for a new passenger to sit beside him so he could have a conversation. As soon as I arrived, intending to rest, he welcomed me with the intention of talking. I was now stuck. At that time, the Iranian Revolution led by Khomeini was a hot topic. The Sikh gentleman, who was an American national born and raised in the U.S., had limited proficiency in Hindi and preferred to converse in English. The habit of many Indians, especially when traveling, is to pass time by discussing politics. It is quite interesting how, by the time a journey ends, it seems as if all of the country's problems—inflation, electricity shortages, water crises, and gas issues—have been resolved, and everyone parts ways as if the nation’s fate has been decided. This culture is unique to India and not commonly found in other countries. As soon as the Sikh gentleman saw me—a young scholar wearing traditional attire—he started a conversation about the Iranian Revolution. Our elders taught us never to waste time on pointless discussions; rather, it is an art and a science to skillfully steer any conversation towards a meaningful topic. So, while responding to his conversation, I gradually shifted the discussion toward Islam. However, he soon started yawning, showing no interest in religious discussions. Seeing him yawn, I felt relieved, thinking I might finally get a chance to rest. But fate had something else in store. The seat in front of me, near the emergency exit, was occupied by an American air hostess. She had been listening to our conversation. She suddenly spoke up, saying, "It seems like you are discussing Islam. May I join in and ask a few questions?" I agreed and told her she could ask anything, and if I knew the answer, I would respond. She said she had been studying Islam for a year. While she found certain aspects appealing, some things were confusing and difficult to understand. She then asked, "What exactly is the concept of veiling (hijab)? Haven’t you imprisoned half of your population—your women—by imposing this practice?" May Allah guide people to wisdom. Our elders taught us to never respond to a question impulsively. Instead, one should first listen carefully, internally turn to Allah for guidance, and seek divine wisdom before answering. So, as I listened to her question, I silently prayed, asking Allah to guide me toward an answer that would be beneficial. And then, suddenly, an example came to my mind—one I had never thought of before. I told the American air hostess: Continue Reading: Audio: Aik American Air Hostess ka Waqia - Shaikh Khalil-ur-Rahman Sajjad Nomani (Urdu, English)
