So here I am reminiscing back to the old days where my friend kept on telling me that he didn't believe in God.
Born in a mixed religion of Roman Catholic and Muslim, he was raised as a Muslim, but does not practice the religion much. Drinking alcohol as his night supper, eating bacon for breakfast, you asked for it, he did it. He even had a dog as pet. Those cute little Shih Tzu. I remembered one time that his mother sending him a text message, telling him the benefits of drinking alcohol, right in front of my eye.
I still remember when he questioned me on where is God and His presence, all sort of questions on Islam and all, making discomfort out of the casual conversation we used to had.
I can't be ignorant about this. I am nor pious, or religious enough. Frankly, I'm just a regular guy who tends to make mistakes. I don't perform solah much, the one who kept on finding excuses to escape from doing my prayer. But I must answer his questions, for the sake of him, and his religion.
Yet here we are, I am answering all those questions based on my knowledge and logic minds. And the questions was rigorous, filled with desire to know, that all of his questions filled my mind, numb. No, I'm not that sort of that know-it-all-alpha-male -dont-afraid-of-anything out there, but I think its my obligations to answer those questions
He asked me why pray to the one who doesn't exists? He asked me to show the presence of God. I smirked. I watched the stars as time goes by, thinking what should I answer that question. His was was curious enough, as if a boy asking his dad what are those things.
After a long thought, I just answered, "My dear friend, just look at the universe, look at the surroundings. Don't you think that God who made this for us?
The air for you to breathe.
The sun that gave you light.
The moon that shines on you in darkness.
The trees that gave you protection from the blazing sun.
The apples that can filled your stomach if in hunger.
Now can you see how fast he takes those away from us?"
He just kept on listening in silence, nodding in agreement.
Those conversation did not stopped there. After that the questions keep on flowing, as the night passed on. And I tried to answer all those questions with my knowledge, hoping that one day, he will repent.
That night was the last night we met each other. I haven't heard of him since.
Glad to me that last few days, he called me from Melbourne, saying that he was just at a mosque, just perform his Asr prayer. He just remembered the conversation we had the other night, and he straight away call me. He had now been close to Allah, closer than ever. He had stopped drinking, and even don't touch his regular bacon breakfast his mother prepared for him.