The Djiin Purpose

The djiin purpose

Charlie had always been fascinated by nature, and he had always dreamed of visiting the national parks in Iran. So, when he had a few days off from work, he decided to take a trip to one of the most beautiful parks in the country, the Kavir National Park.

As he arrived at the park, he was immediately struck by the beauty of the landscape. The park was located in a vast desert region, and the sand dunes seemed to stretch on forever. The sun was beating down on him, and he could feel the heat radiating off the sand.

As Charlie was walking through the desert landscape of the Kavir National Park, he suddenly noticed a venomous snake slithering towards him. He froze in fear, knowing that this was not something to take lightly. The snake had a triangular-shaped head and its body was covered in a pattern of brown and black scales. Charlie knew that he needed to act quickly to avoid being bitten.

Charlie was stunned as he watched the venomous snake transform into a man right before his eyes. He quickly realized that he was face to face with a Djinn, an evil spirit from Middle Eastern folklore. The Djinn had a dark and menacing aura around him, and Charlie felt a shiver run down his spine.

Picture from @kiffarab​

The Djinn spoke in a low, ominous voice, “What brings you to my domain, mortal?” Charlie knew that he had to tread carefully around the Djinn. He responded, “I came here to explore the beauty of this national park, I meant no harm to you.”

Charlie knew that he needed to be careful with the Djinn, but the temptation of making a wish was too strong. He asked the Djinn if he could make a wish, but the Djinn’s response was unexpected. “It is not my purpose to grant wishes, mortal. I am not a genie, and I do not serve at your command,” the Djinn said, with a tone of warning.

Charlie was taken aback by the Djinn’s response. He had never heard of a Djinn with a specific purpose like this. The Djinn continued, “My purpose is to ensure that Islam remains the most powerful religion in the world. I have been tasked with this responsibility by the great king of the Djinn, and I will not allow anything to threaten the supremacy of my faith.”

Charlie was surprised by the Djinn’s words. He had never thought about converting to Islam, and he didn’t know how to respond to the Djinn’s prophecy. “I’m not sure what you mean,” Charlie said, trying to sound as diplomatic as possible.

The Djinn replied, “You will soon see the beauty and power of Islam, and you will become a proud servant of Allah”.

Charlie felt a sudden rush of energy as the Djinn’s hand touched his head. He tried to resist, but the Djinn’s grip was too strong. Suddenly, Charlie found himself on his knees, unable to move as the Djinn began to recite a prayer in Arabic.

Charlie felt a strange sensation all over his body as the Djinn continued to recite the prayer. He felt his skin start to darken and his facial features shift, until he looked more like an Arab man than his original appearance. His lips get fuller, his eyes darker and his hair turn black and thicker. And a small dark beard growing. His clothes changed too, and he found himself wearing traditional green djellaba. and his mind became filled with knowledge of Islam and the Quran. He began to speak Arabic fluently, and his native language was forgotten.

Picture from @kiffarab​

Charlie was stunned as he looked down at his transformed body, and he realized that he was now a part of the Muslim community. He couldn’t believe what had just happened to him, but he felt a sense of peace and belonging that he had never experienced before. He knew that his life had changed forever, and he had a new purpose in life.

Suddenly, the Djinn stopped reciting the prayer and removed his hand from Charlie’s head. The transformation was complete, and Charlie found himself looking completely different than he had just a few moments ago. He felt confused and disoriented, unsure of what to do next.

Charlie looked at his transformed body in wonder, touching his face, his beard, and his djellaba, still processing the sudden change that had just occurred. The Djinn looked at him with a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. 

“You have done well, my child,” he said. “But you must understand that your old name, Charlie, is not suitable for a good Muslim like yourself. I will give you a new name, one that is befitting of your new purpose.“

The Djinn closed his eyes and muttered a few words under his breath. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew through the desert, and Charlie felt a sense of power and strength fill him. The Djinn opened his eyes and spoke, "Your new name shall be Abdullah, which means ‘servant of Allah’. May this name bring you good fortune and lead you on the path of righteousness.”

Abdullah was amazed by the Djinn’s choice of name. He felt a sense of belonging and purpose that he had never experienced before. He was no longer confused or disoriented, but instead felt a sense of clarity and conviction. He knew that he had been chosen for a purpose, and he was ready to embrace it.

The Mystic Razor

Special thanks to @arab-god for giving me inspiration and picture ideas.

In a bustling city neighborhood, hidden away between towering buildings, there was a barbershop unlike any other. Small and easy to overlook, it was known only to those who sought something beyond the ordinary. They called it "The Mystic Razor," a place where transformations went far deeper than a simple haircut. The barber, a man known simply as Malik, was an enigma—a figure of quiet power and mystery, whose skills were whispered about in the city’s back alleys. Those who entered his shop emerged changed in ways they could never have imagined.

One afternoon, two brothers, David and Mark, stood outside The Mystic Razor. They had heard the rumors, the tales of people who entered and came out transformed—not just in appearance, but in essence. Driven by a mix of curiosity and desperation, they decided to step inside.

The shop was dimly lit, its walls covered in intricate, shifting patterns that seemed to move as they walked. The air was thick with the scent of exotic spices—cinnamon, saffron, and something darker, more elusive. Malik was waiting for them, standing behind one of the barber chairs, his eyes deep and unnervingly knowing.

“Welcome, David. Welcome, Mark,” Malik said, his voice deep and soothing. He didn’t ask their names—he simply knew.

Without another word, the brothers sat in the chairs, and Malik draped them with shimmering golden cloths. The fabric was warm, almost alive, and as it touched their skin, they felt a deep, strange sensation—a transformation that went far beyond the physical. With each snip of the scissors, their bodies and minds were subtly altered, their thoughts reshaped.

When Malik finally removed the cloths, David and Mark were gone. In their place stood Ahmed and Yusuf—two men with striking, angular features, deep brown eyes, and a new, unshakable purpose. They wore sleek, white Nike soccer jerseys with green accents that highlighted their athletic builds. Over their shoulders were stylish fanny packs, and in their ears, AirPods that seemed to have always been there.

“This is who you truly are,” Malik said, his voice a low murmur. “You are now brothers in every sense. But your transformation is not yet complete. You have a purpose now—a purpose that must be fulfilled.”

Ahmed and Yusuf looked at each other, the same thought crystallizing in their minds: The Brotherhood must grow. Everyone must be part of the Brotherhood.

The moment Ahmed and Yusuf stepped out of The Mystic Razor, the city seemed different. The bustling streets, once chaotic and overwhelming, now appeared to pulse with an underlying energy. Their senses were sharper, their minds clearer, and a singular purpose drove them forward—a purpose that they could not resist.

“The Brotherhood,” Yusuf muttered, his voice laced with a newfound intensity. “Everyone needs to be part of it.”

“Yes,” Ahmed agreed, his tone equally resolute. “It’s our purpose now. We need to spread this gift, this transformation.”

They walked through the crowded streets, scanning the faces of passersby. It wasn’t long before they found their first target: a young man walking alone, his gaze distant and unfocused. He had the look of someone searching for something, though he didn’t seem to know what.

Ahmed and Yusuf approached him, their presence overwhelming and magnetic. The young man looked up, startled but unable to look away.

“Hey, man, relax,” Yusuf said, his voice smooth and reassuring. “We just want to talk.”

“What… what do you want?” the young man asked, his voice trembling.

“We see potential in you,” Ahmed replied, a small smile on his lips. “Come with us, and we can show you who you’re really meant to be.”

The young man hesitated, but something about them—their calm confidence, the way their words seemed to resonate within him—made him nod. “Okay… I’ll come with you.”

They led him through the city, their words a soothing chant that wrapped around his mind like a fog. When they reached a secluded area, away from prying eyes, they began to recite the words Malik had whispered to them, the chant that had reshaped their own minds.

The young man’s eyes glazed over as the chant filled his ears. He stood still, his body rigid, as the transformation began to take hold. It was subtle at first, a shift in his thoughts, a change in his purpose. But soon, his mind was flooded with the same desire that now consumed Ahmed and Yusuf.

When they finished, the young man looked at them, his eyes filled with the same intensity, the same hunger to spread the Brotherhood.

“What happens now?” he asked, his voice steady.

“Now,” Ahmed said, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder, “you join us. We find others. We bring them into the fold.”

The Brotherhood moved through the city like a shadow, unseen by most but deeply felt by those they encountered. Each new recruit was drawn in, their minds reshaped, their purpose redefined. With each transformation, the Brotherhood grew stronger, their numbers increasing steadily.

The city itself seemed to change, its pulse quickening in time with the growing Brotherhood. The members moved with a sense of purpose, their eyes constantly scanning for new recruits, new souls to bring into the fold.

Ahmed, Yusuf, and their growing group of brothers found their next targets easily. They were drawn to those who seemed lost, those who were searching for something more—though they didn’t know it yet. With each new recruit, the Brotherhood’s influence spread, and the city became more attuned to their presence.

It wasn’t long before they had a network of members, all working together with a singular goal: to spread the Brotherhood, to ensure that everyone was transformed. The members communicated through subtle gestures and quiet words, their actions coordinated without the need for explicit commands. They were connected, united by the same purpose, the same chant that echoed in their minds: “The Brotherhood must grow. Everyone must be part of the Brotherhood.”

The city, once chaotic and overwhelming, now felt like a stage set for their mission. The Brotherhood moved through it with ease, their actions synchronized, their purpose clear. And with each new day, their numbers swelled, the Brotherhood spreading like wildfire through the streets.

As the Brotherhood grew, so did its influence. The city was slowly being transformed, its people drawn into the fold one by one. But with growth came challenges. Not everyone was so easily swayed, and resistance began to form in the shadows.

Ahmed and Yusuf, now the de facto leaders of the Brotherhood, felt the growing tension. They knew that to ensure the Brotherhood’s continued expansion, they would need to take more decisive action. They began to hunt more actively, seeking out those who resisted, those who were immune to the subtle pull of the Brotherhood.

The transformation process became more intense, more forceful. The Brotherhood developed new techniques, new ways to break down resistance and bring even the most stubborn souls into the fold. Each success only fueled their determination, their belief that the Brotherhood was destined to encompass everyone.

But as they continued their mission, whispers began to circulate—rumors of a force rising against them, a group determined to stop the Brotherhood’s spread. Ahmed and Yusuf dismissed these rumors at first, confident in their strength and the unity of the Brotherhood. But as the resistance grew bolder, they realized that their mission was far from over.

The city was changing, yes, but it was also fighting back. And as Ahmed and Yusuf prepared to confront this new challenge, they knew that the Brotherhood would need to evolve once more. The Mystic Razor had set them on this path, and they would see it through to the end—no matter the cost.

Jake becomes Yaseen

Jake had always been a man of ambition. Working in a sleek, modern office in the heart of the city, he took pride in his individuality and his Western roots. But lately, something had changed. His once familiar environment now felt foreign, as if it was slowly slipping away from him.

It started with small changes—subtle at first, almost unnoticeable. His colleagues, one by one, began adopting a new dress code: white Nike soccer jerseys with green details, accompanied by black fanny packs slung over their shoulders. They laughed together, exchanging knowing glances and shared smiles that Jake was no longer a part of.

As he sat alone at his desk, surrounded by the hum of conversation and camaraderie, Jake couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider. The contrast between his traditional Western attire and the new cultural norm was stark, making him feel isolated and out of place in the very office where he had once thrived.

Jake watched as his colleagues interacted, their bonds seemingly stronger than ever. He could sense the subtle pressure mounting around him, a quiet expectation that he, too, would eventually conform. But Jake wasn’t ready to let go of his identity. Not yet.

The Encounter

The pressure intensified over the following days. It wasn’t long before Jake found himself face-to-face with Amir, Khalid, and Rami—three colleagues who had fully embraced the new cultural shift. They approached him during a break, their expressions friendly yet purposeful.

“Jake,” Amir began, his tone warm but firm, “we’ve been noticing you’ve been a bit distant lately. We want to help you feel more connected, more… part of the team.”

Khalid, who was carrying a neatly folded white Nike jersey, stepped forward. “We’ve got something for you. It’s a small gesture, but it means a lot. We want you to join us, to feel like you belong.”

Rami nodded in agreement, his eyes fixed on Jake with a look that was both inviting and unwavering. “This is more than just a jersey, Jake. It’s about unity, about moving forward together.”

Jake stared at the jersey in Khalid’s hands. It was the same as the ones his colleagues were now wearing—simple, with green details that had become a symbol of the new order. For a moment, he felt the weight of their expectations pressing down on him, but he managed a hesitant smile.

“I appreciate the gesture,” Jake said, trying to keep his voice steady. “But I’m not sure I’m ready for this.”

Amir exchanged a glance with the others, his smile never faltering. “Take your time, Jake. We’ll be here when you’re ready.”

As the three men walked away, leaving Jake alone with his thoughts, he couldn’t help but feel that time was running out.

The pressure had been building for weeks, and Jake could feel the cracks in his resolve. Every day, it seemed as though the world around him was closing in tighter, leaving him with fewer options and less space to breathe.

That afternoon, as he sat alone during lunch, his thoughts spiraled. He couldn’t keep up this resistance much longer—he knew that. But the idea of giving in, of losing the last vestiges of who he was, filled him with dread.

The sound of approaching footsteps pulled Jake from his thoughts. He looked up to see Amir, Khalid, and Rami standing before him. Their faces, once friendly and inviting, now held a seriousness that sent a chill down his spine.

“Jake,” Amir said, his voice leaving no room for argument, “it’s time.”

Jake looked at the jersey in Amir’s hands, the symbol of everything he had resisted for so long. The weight of their expectations bore down on him, crushing what little defiance he had left.

“You’ve held out long enough,” Khalid added, his tone both firm and sympathetic. “But it’s time to let go of the past. It’s time to move forward.”

Rami didn’t say anything, but his presence was enough. The three of them standing together, united in their purpose, made Jake feel smaller, more isolated than ever.

With a heavy heart and trembling hands, Jake reached out and took the jersey. The fabric felt foreign in his grasp, a symbol of a new identity he wasn’t sure he wanted but knew he needed to accept.

Amir smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re making the right choice, Jake. Welcome to the future.”

Jake’s hand trembled as he took the jersey from Amir. The weight of the fabric felt heavier than it should, as if it carried with it all the expectations and pressures that had been building up for weeks. As the three men watched him closely, Jake realized there was no turning back. The decision had been made, and now, he had to follow through.

The next day, Jake arrived at work wearing the white Nike jersey. It felt strange against his skin, a constant reminder of the choice he had made. The hoodie and jeans that had once been his armor were gone, replaced by the uniform of the new order. As he walked through the office, he noticed the change in how his colleagues looked at him. The once distant stares had softened, replaced by nods of approval and small smiles. He was no longer an outsider.

But the transition wasn’t easy. Every time Jake looked in the mirror, he saw a stranger staring back at him. The man in the reflection was someone who had given in, who had let go of his old identity in exchange for acceptance. The fanny pack, now slung over his shoulder, felt like a leash—one that he had willingly put on.

Jake’s transformation was nearly complete. The man who once clung to his individuality had become someone who valued unity and conformity. The resistance that had once defined him was now just a faint memory, overshadowed by the sense of belonging he had found in the new order.

One morning, as Jake walked to work, he passed by a group of new employees. They were dressed in the attire he had once worn—hoodies, jeans, and unsure expressions. Jake recognized the hesitation in their eyes, the same doubt he had felt not long ago.

Amir, Khalid, and Rami were with them, guiding them just as they had guided Jake. As Jake watched, he felt a strange mix of emotions—empathy, nostalgia, and an odd sense of superiority. He understood what they were going through, but he also knew what awaited them on the other side of their resistance.

One of the new employees caught Jake’s eye, a young man who reminded him of his former self. The man looked lost, uncertain, and as their eyes met, Jake felt a connection—a fleeting moment of understanding.

Jake approached the group, joining Amir, Khalid, and Rami. The young man looked at Jake, and for a moment, there was a silent exchange. Jake offered him a reassuring nod, a gesture that said, “I’ve been where you are. It’s going to be okay.”

As the young man hesitantly accepted the white Nike jersey, Jake felt a sense of completion. He was no longer the one being converted; he was now part of the system, part of the new world that was taking shape.

And as the group continued on their way, Jake knew that this was just the beginning. There would always be others to guide, others to bring into the fold. It was the way of the new order—unite, assimilate, and move forward together.

The man he had been was gone, replaced by someone who understood the value of unity, even if it came at the cost of individuality. Jake had found his place, and now, he would help others find theirs.

Jake had taken the final step in his transformation. He had changed his name to reflect his new identity—a name that resonated with his new role in the world. His former colleagues, now his closest allies, no longer saw him as Jake, but as Yaseen.

Yaseen felt a strange mix of pride and loss as he walked into the office that morning. The man he once was had faded away, replaced by someone who understood the value of unity and conformity. His new name was a badge of honor, a symbol of his acceptance into a world that had once seemed so foreign.

As Yaseen approached his desk, Amir, Khalid, and Rami were waiting for him. They stood with smiles that carried a sense of approval and recognition. This was the moment they had been waiting for—the moment when Yaseen would be welcomed not just as a colleague, but as a brother.

“Yaseen,” Amir said, his voice warm and welcoming, “welcome to the family.”

Khalid clapped him on the shoulder, a gesture of camaraderie. “You’ve made the right choice, brother. We’re proud to have you with us.”

Rami nodded, his expression serious but kind. “You belong here, Yaseen. This is where you’re meant to be.”

Yaseen smiled, feeling the weight of their words. He was no longer an outsider, no longer someone who had to fight to be accepted. He had found his place, and it felt…right.

The group stood together, united by their shared identity and purpose. The journey had been long, but Yaseen knew that this was just the beginning. There were others out there, just like he had been, and it was now his turn to guide them into the fold.

Yo, peeps! Do you even notice anything in the lecture hall? Like, nah? Well, like, duh, that just totally proves that having chicks at the university would just be, like, such a major distraction, innit?

My fellow Brothers. Accept the jersey and join me on my Journey. Give in to our leader, send me and other Brothers messages. We need to stay in touch and guide each other every day.

Try to make story ideas and send them to me. Together we can convince others 💚

The Brotherhood Game

Ryan leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head after a long day of classes and homework. His desk was cluttered with empty cans of energy drinks, textbooks, and a few scattered notes from his computer science lectures. A quick glance at his phone showed it was almost midnight, but he wasn’t tired yet. He felt like diving into something new, something that would take his mind off the monotony of the day.

He scrolled through an online gaming forum, his usual haunt for discovering obscure games, when a thread titled The Brotherhood caught his eye. The comments were oddly cryptic:

“This game will change your life.”

“Once you start, there’s no going back.”

“You have to play it to understand.”

Ryan’s curiosity piqued, and he clicked on the thread. Buried within the discussion was a download link, seemingly posted by someone who knew what they were doing. There were no screenshots, no official descriptions, just a simple message: “Enter if you’re ready to see the truth.”

Without much thought, Ryan downloaded the game. The installation was quick, and before long, the title screen appeared—The Brotherhood—written in elegant Arabic script that glowed softly against the backdrop of a vast, sun-drenched desert.

He pressed "Start," and the game launched into a character creation menu. Oddly, there were no customization options, just a single prompt asking for his name. He typed in "Ryan," but the game rejected it.

“This is not your name. Your name is Saif,” the game stated.

"Saif?" Ryan mumbled, puzzled. He tried to override it, but nothing worked. With no other option, he clicked "Continue," and the screen flickered before placing him in a beautifully rendered desert town.

A figure approached him, draped in a white robe with intricate green details. "Saif," the figure called out, "Welcome home. You have much to learn." The voice was calm, almost hypnotic, and it resonated deeply within him.

"Wait, home?" Ryan questioned, but the game moved on, seamlessly guiding him through the town. Every building, every face seemed familiar, as if he had walked these streets before.

The game didn’t have traditional quests. Instead, it involved meditative exercises, discussions with wise elders, and moments of reflection. The longer Ryan played, the more he felt himself slipping into this new identity. It wasn’t just the game world that was changing—it was as though the game was reaching out into his own reality, altering it bit by bit.

After what felt like hours, Ryan noticed something strange in the reflection of a water basin within the game. He was no longer seeing himself but Saif—a young Middle Eastern man with sharp features, wearing a white jersey with green details and AirPods. The realization hit him hard, but the game wouldn’t let him stop.

“Remember who you are, Saif,” the voice echoed, growing fainter as the screen faded to black.

Suddenly, the game returned to the main menu, but something felt off. Ryan blinked and looked around his room, but it wasn’t his dorm anymore. The walls were adorned with Arabic calligraphy, and the posters of his favorite games were gone. Even more shocking, he was wearing the same white jersey with green details and AirPods as his in-game character.

“What the...?” Ryan— Saif—whispered, staring at his reflection in the darkened screen of his computer. His heart pounded in his chest, the transition between the game and reality blurring more with every passing second.

Panicked, Saif reached up to touch his face, but it felt different, more angular, like the man in the game. He jumped out of his chair and rushed to the mirror, only to see the same face staring back at him—the face of Saif. It was unmistakable. The person he had become in the game was now standing in his room.

A soft chime from his computer pulled his attention back to the screen. The game was open again, this time displaying a new message: “The Brotherhood is your destiny. Share it with the world.” Below the message was the same download link he had clicked on earlier.

Without thinking, Saif copied the link and pasted it into a group chat with his friends. He typed, “You have to play this. Trust me.” His fingers moved on their own, as if compelled by some force he couldn’t resist.

The last remnants of Ryan’s identity dissolved as Saif looked back at the computer screen, now displaying a message in Arabic he could somehow understand perfectly: “Welcome to The Brotherhood.”

He smiled, feeling an overwhelming sense of purpose. The Brotherhood had claimed him, and now, it was time for others to join.