[Scene: A roadside café in Riyadh. Fahad and Adil are sitting on plastic chairs, sipping karak tea and watching cars pass by.]
Fahad: (glancing nervously around) Bro, I’m telling you… something’s not right. Since last week, my fan turns on by itself at night. I swear. Then I keep hearing whispers. Wallahi, I think it’s jinn.
Adil: (grinning) Maybe the fan just loves you. It’s trying to cool your fiery personality.
Fahad: I’m serious, Adil! My cousin had the same thing. He got a ruqya session, and the sheikh said two jinn were living in his closet! After that, everything stopped.
Adil: Fahad, you realize we have Wi-Fi, electric circuits, and Google now, right? Maybe it’s a faulty switch… or the fact that you live next to a transformer substation?
Fahad: No, no, habibi. This is beyond technology. Remember when my phone kept dying at 3:00 AM for a whole week? And the screen flashed with those weird lines? That’s classic jinn behavior.
Adil: Classic jinn behavior? Or classic battery degradation? You need a new phone, not an exorcist!
Fahad: You laugh, but ruqya is real. The Quran has verses that can heal. When the sheikh recites Surah Al-Baqarah, people literally scream and faint. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.
Adil: And I’ve seen people faint when you sing in the car, but that doesn’t mean you’re possessed.
Fahad: Bro, you’re being disrespectful.
Adil: No, no, I respect the tradition. I get that ruqya gives comfort. And sure, the mind is powerful—placebos are real. But think about it. If someone has epilepsy, or anxiety, and we say, “Oh, that’s just a jinn,” we might delay real medical treatment. That’s dangerous.
Fahad: But what if it is a jinn? Not everything can be explained. The Quran says they exist!
Adil: Sure, jinn exist—in theology. But jumping from “jinn exist” to “this flickering light must be a jinn” is like saying, “Bacteria exist, so this bad smell must be caused by an army of bacteria ghosts.”
Fahad: Listen, Adil. My uncle was bedridden. Doctors said, “It’s psychological.” But after one ruqya, he started walking again. How do you explain that?
Adil: Easy. Psychosomatic illnesses are real. Stress and trauma can manifest physically. And belief—deep belief—can unlock strength you didn’t know you had. That’s science, not sorcery.
Fahad: So you’re saying ruqya works because of belief, not because jinn are involved?
Adil: Exactly. Like when a child falls and you kiss the wound and say, “All better,” and suddenly they stop crying. It’s not magic. It’s comfort, psychology, trust. But if you saw someone faint and scream during a metal concert, would you call a sheikh or a medic?
Fahad: Depends on the music… if it’s black metal, I might call both.
[They both laugh.]
Fahad: Fine. But what if, just what if, one day you do see something unexplainable?
Adil: Then I’ll investigate it. I won’t jump to conclusions. I’ll check the wiring, call a doctor, then maybe call a sheikh—after I’ve ruled out all the normal stuff.
Fahad: So you’re not against ruqya, you’re just… skeptical?
Adil: Exactly. It’s not about mocking belief. It’s about not letting fear and folklore override logic and medicine.
Fahad: Hmm. Fair enough. But if my TV turns on again at 3 AM and plays Quran by itself, I’m calling you and the sheikh.
Adil: Deal. But only if we record it and start a YouTube channel: “Ghosts of Riyadh.”
Fahad: With matching thobes and night vision goggles?
Adil: Naturally.
[They clink their karak cups and burst into laughter as the call to prayer echoes in the distance.]
End Scene

Tell Us What You Think