The struggle begins...

Iqbal felt something had changed in his life ever since he repented. With his return to God, he couldn't visit the clubs he would so often visit and hang out with the same friends. The guy he met at the Dhaka University cafe couple of months ago had told him if he wanted to change he had to leave every bad habit from the past. When he heard that he knew right then and there that was a huge commitment. He wasn't sure how long could he continue on the right path.

Being the son of a rich doctor he had the access to all the riches the world had to offer. And he has been used to living in luxury his entire life. Suddenly he learned the more riches you had, the tougher account would be on the day of judgment. He could not, all of a sudden, leave everything. And after all, Islam was not a monastic religion. You could lead a normal life! Get married, procreate, and when it's time.... conveniently die. The only condition to die was to die on Islam. Was it really that difficult?

He started doing research upon research on Islam. His mother would call him to dinner, and he would not listen. When it's time for lunch, he would be in the masjid listening to some lecture. He was not available for anything other than doing something for his religion.

One night after dinner he was browsing the internet to find some fatwa/Islamic verdict on the ruling of ~~masturbation~~. Needless to say, it was something he was worried about. He searched every single corner of the web he could to find a fatwa that told him 'it was okay' to get a release. To his shock and sorrow, he could not find one that told him so.

That was the last straw that broke the camel's back! Although he wasn't a murderer anymore, he returned to his old life somewhat. He started looking at porn again. Whenever he would be online he just could not restrain himself from ending up on a forbidden platform. Worse still, he didn't even understand the fact that he needed to stop because each time he fell prey to his temptation he was drowning deep in his desire to continue.

It had become his routine to come home from college after afternoon prayers. and sit at his desk browsing internet without any real purpose.

"Mother I want tea", yelled Iqbal at his mom one evening.

His mom, who was somewhat of a practicing woman, frowned and didn't say anything for the rudeness. She thought it better to just ignore it.

"okay, son", she said.

Oh how were the days when we shook at the mere thought of asking our parents for something! She said to herself and sighed.

Mrs. Ahmed went to her kitchen and lit the stove at once. She didn't want her son to become more irritable than he already had become.