Let Me Tell You A Story

وَلَقَدْ خَلَقْنَا الْإِنسَانَ مِن صَلْصَالٍ مِّنْ حَمَإٍ مَّسْنُونٍ
وَالْجَانَّ خَلَقْنَاهُ مِن قَبْلُ مِن نَّارِ السَّمُومِ

“And We did certainly create man out of clay from an altered black mud. And the jinn We created before from scorching fire” – (Quran 15:26-27)

Let me tell you a story…

A story that has flowed down the branches of my family, trickling through generations. My mother told me this story and her father told her.

In the late nineteenth century in Bangladesh, my Boro Amma (my great, great grandmother) had married.

She sat on one of those olden litter carriages where men carried her to her new home, her husband’s বাড়ি (house). Mother told me that they halted to take a break and set the carriage down under a towering tree. It was at that moment that a Jinn saw my Boro Amma.

سورة الجن (the Jinns) are a different species to humans. They are created from smokeless fire and obtain supernatural abilities. They live in a parallel world to us and some refer to them as spirits. They see us but we do not see them. The only way to communicate between these two species is if a Jinn possess a human or if black magic is used. And it so happens that Jinns tend to live near trees and that is how this particular one came to see my Boro Amma.

My mother said that the Jinn had fallen in love with my Boro Amma and had attached itself to her; not in a possessed form but rather in a protective stance. The Jinn protected her and looked out for her throughout her entire life as she lived, unaware.

My grandfather told my mother that he remembered, as a little boy, seeing his grandmother sit on water. My mother’s house in Bangladesh has a পুকুর (lake) that has been there for decades, passed through generations as a part of our land.

I asked my mother – “How is that possible? To sit on water?”

She replied – “The Jinn would hold her up in the water, allowing her to float and she would be unaware as she made dua and recited surahs.”

In my culture, tradition and religion, we believe these things. They are simply a story to some, but they are our truth – my family’s truth.

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