“Yes, iqra! To read, to recite—the very first word of the glorious Quran as revealed to the Prophet, peace be upon him, by Allah subhanahu wa ta’ala’s messenger, the angel Jibreel. That is the first command that Allah bade the Prophet, and all Muslims. But more than just to read—to understand the Quran, to follow the Quran.”

Every time after that, when the contestants are stumped, Imam Zia eggs the audience to chant, “Even an eleven-year-old knows this.” And Arshad gets to call out the answer.

He roots for Khadija Aunty, admiring the competitive spirit with which she responds to the clues, eyes flashing like the sequins in her hijab as she pounces on the buzzer. But unfortunately, she makes as many mistakes as she gets questions right, and the senior from his school ends up winning.

Afterward, his father compels him to return home with Amina, though he wants to stay to help with the cleanup. Amina is tired and falls asleep almost immediately once Najiba Aunty takes them home. Arshad is too keyed up for that. He practices his recitation in the living room, working on the ayats he’d stumbled over during the competition. He’d recited surah Al-Qiyamah, his all-time favorite.

The Sunday Quran class when he’d first heard Imam Zia recite the surah, he’d felt his limbs tingle the moment the opening word, la, resounded, in what seemed to him not Imam Zia’s usual voice but verging on a cry: No!

Thereafter, each ayat seemed to reach toward him, a solar flare that surged with each prolonged vowel, seeking him out as if to sear him, receding only when sounding the final rhyming syllable. It started up again with the next ayat. He’d felt himself grow feverish. Even the ayats with only short vowels were awful and awesome, the flare engorging itself with each percussive rhyme, as if pumping itself up in preparation. Finally, at the word raq that concluded one ayat, Imam Zia sustained the vowel so long that the flames succeeded in reaching Arshad. He’d felt burned, branded, effaced, and ecstatic.

Later, during the tafsir, listening to Imam Zia’s explanation of the surah, he’d marveled at how, even without knowing its meaning, he’d been so affected.

Do you think Allah cannot resurrect you from the dead? No, He can reassemble the very tips of your fingers. On that day, when every eye will be astounded, when the moon turns dark and plunges into the sun, every disbeliever will ask, “Where can I hide?” But there is no place of escape. Only with Allah will you find refuge the day of Qiyamah. Allah alone is the cure that day—raq!—Allah alone is the healer.