Why Did They Become Muslims

face and his light-radiating and sweet eyes benumbed me. With a
very sweet but imperative voice, he spoke to me in the Arabic
language, and said: “Why are you sad? You already know the
path ahead of you. You have attained the level to choose the right
path. Do not wait any longer, and immediately join that path!”
My body was shaking all over. I said to him, in Arabic, “Yâ
Rasûlallah (O the Messenger of Allah) ‘sall-Allâhu ’alaihi wa
sallam’! You are the Prophet of Allah. I believe in this now. But
will I attain peace if I become a Muslim? You are a very great
being! You always overcame your enemies and always showed the
right way. But will I, a poor, helpless born slave, be able to keep
in the path that you will show?” Muhammad ‘sall-Allâhu ’alaihi
wa sallam’ looked at me gravely and recited the seventh, the
eighth, the ninth and the tenth âyats of the Naba’ Sûra in the
Qur’ân al-kerîm, which purported, “Have We not created the
earth as a dwelling place for you and the mountains as a support?
We have brought you in pairs to the world, and We have given
you the blessing of sleep so that you may rest.” As he recited
them, the words that he uttered rang sweetly like the tuneful
sound of silver bells. I was all of a sweat when I woke up. I began
to wail, “O my Allah, I cannot sleep any longer. I cannot solve the
mysteries around me and hidden under thick covers. O
Rasûlallah! O Muhammad ‘alaihis-salâtu wassalâm’! Help me!
Illuminate me!” I was, on the other hand, afraid to hurt that great
Prophet ‘sall-Allâhu ta’âlâ ’alaihi wa sallam’. Sounds that I could
not understand came out of my throat, and I was in convulsions all
over. Finally, I felt as if I were rolling down into an abyss, and
woke up, soaked in sweat. My heart was palpitating vehemently,
and bells were ringing in my ears.
On a Friday, the following incident took place in the Shâh
Jihân Mosque in Delhi: A fair-haired, dull-and-whitecomplexioned
young stranger was entering the mosque among
some old Muslims. It was me. I was clad in Indian garments. Yet
a gold medal that I had been awarded in Istanbul shone on my
chest. The Muslims in the mosque were eyeing me with
amazement. I and my friends reached a spot close to the Minbar.
A while later the voice calling (the invitation to prayer termed)
the adhân was heard. I watched the approximately four thousand
people stand up with a quick motion softened with reverent
solemnity and make lines, with the same orderliness and speed as
you could see in a military drill. So they began to perform the
(prayer called) namâz, and I joined them. It was an unforgettable
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