Audio: Aik American Air Hostess ka Waqia – Shaikh Khalil-ur-Rahman Sajjad Nomani (Urdu, English)

Auto-Generated Translation in English

This is an auto-generated translation thus it is prone to errors.

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:

“A few years ago, an interesting incident occurred in your country, the United States. In 1972, I read about this real event in Reader’s Digest. It happened in Houston, Texas, where a young man placed a briefcase containing around 150,000 dollars’ worth of jewelry on a busy intersection. He deliberately left it open, parked his car, and went up to his apartment balcony to observe what would happen next.

As expected, after some time, another young man drove by, noticed the open briefcase full of valuables, looked around to make sure no one was watching, then quickly took the briefcase, put it in his car, and sped away.

The man from the balcony had noted the car’s license plate number and immediately called the police. Unlike in some countries where cases take ages to be resolved, the American police swiftly arrested the thief at the next intersection. The case went to court, and the verdict was quite surprising.

The high court ruled that the real culprit was not the man who took the briefcase, but rather the one who had deliberately left it open in a public place. The court sentenced him to six months in prison along with mandatory mental treatment. As for the one who took the briefcase, the court declared that the contents now legally belonged to him. However, as a recommendation, he was advised to return jewelry worth $20,000 to the original owner as compensation and donate a portion of the remaining amount to charity.”

The American air hostess listened intently. I then told her, “Now you should think—how does this relate to your question?”

To help her understand, I continued:

“The philosophy behind your country’s court ruling was that anything valuable should be properly safeguarded. If someone leaves a precious item unprotected in public, the blame falls on them rather than the one who takes it. Similarly, in Islam, a woman’s beauty and dignity are considered extremely valuable treasures—like a precious diamond that must be protected from the eyes of predators, social wolves, and those with corrupt intentions.

If a woman exposes herself in public, then according to the same principle followed by your court, the real fault does not lie with the man who misbehaves, but with the woman who presented herself in an unguarded manner.”

The moment I finished speaking, the air hostess was completely stunned—speechless. She sat there in silence for a few minutes before finally saying, “I am amazed! I never realized that Islam has such a profound philosophy. I am completely satisfied with this explanation and truly appreciate this perspective.”

By then, we were approaching Karachi airport, and her work duties resumed. She told me, “I have many more questions, but I can’t ask them now as my service shift has started, and you are about to disembark. Could you share your contact information so that I can reach out with more questions later?”

I told her, “I don’t have a personal phone; I live in a hostel as a student. However, if you call my hostel warden’s office on a Friday at a specific time (Saudi time), there’s a chance you might find me available to answer your questions.”

Now, my dear listeners, pay close attention to what happened next.

For the next six months, that woman continued to call once or twice a month, asking me questions about Islam. I did my best to provide answers, despite my limited knowledge.

Then, one Friday, she called and said, “Today, I am not calling to ask any questions. I am calling to share good news—I have just embraced Islam, and my new name is Fatima.”