Setting: A modest rooftop in Lahore during the evening. The adhan just ended, and both friends are sipping chai under string lights.
Ali: (pointing at the prayer mat)
Oy hoy, Bilal! Why didn’t you fold the prayer mat? You want a jinn to come and offer tahajjud in your room or what?
Bilal: (laughs)
Honestly, if a jinn wants to improve his connection with Allah, who am I to stop him?
Ali:
Yaar, don’t joke! I’m serious. My dadi always said if you leave the prayer mat open, a jinn or shaitan will use it. That’s why she used to fold it the second namaz was over.
Bilal:
And I’m sure your dadi also used to tell you not to cut your nails at night, or else your rishtas will run away. Come on, Ali, you’re a grown man—why are you still scared of invisible roommates?
Ali:
It’s not fear, bhai. It’s precaution. You don’t see the jinns, but that doesn’t mean they’re not there. Better to be safe than sorry.
Bilal: (sips chai dramatically)
That’s the same logic people use to not bathe during an eclipse. Look, I’m not saying jinns don’t exist—Qur’an even mentions them. But saying they’ll just show up and casually pray on an unfolded mat? Isn’t that giving them a little too much… prayer privilege?
Ali:
But strange things do happen! One time, my cousin left the prayer mat open in his room, and that night his ceiling fan suddenly started spinning on its own. No electricity, nothing!
Bilal:
Maybe the backup generator kicked in, or the fan had some wiring issue. Or maybe the jinn just needed some air circulation—who knows?
Ali: (grinning)
You’re too much, Bilal. But explain this: Why do so many elders insist on folding the prayer mat immediately? They can’t all be wrong.
Bilal:
Well, traditions often start with practical reasons. Maybe it was to keep the mat clean, avoid dust, or just teach discipline after prayer. Over time, someone added a supernatural twist, and voilà—instant jinn myth.
Ali: (thoughtfully)
Hmm. But why would so many people believe it then?
Bilal:
Because fear spreads faster than facts. It’s more exciting to say “shaitan will use your musalla” than “please don’t trip on it in the dark.” You know how our people are—one dramatic story and the whole street starts folding prayer mats like they’re defusing bombs.
Ali: (chuckles)
True! One time my chacha slipped on an open prayer mat and yelled, “This is jinn’s doing!” Turned out he stepped on his own slipper.
Bilal:
See? Sometimes the real villain is just your chappal.
Ali: (laughing)
Okay fine, you have a point. But still, I think I’ll keep folding mine. Jinn or not, I just feel weird leaving it open now.
Bilal:
Fair enough, bhai. Just don’t force others to fold it with the threat of jinn invasion, okay?
Ali:
Deal. And next time you forget, I’ll just say, “Brother Bilal has left the door open for celestial visitors.”
Bilal:
Let them come. Maybe they’ll help me fold the laundry too.
[They both burst into laughter, clink their chai cups, and watch the sun dip below the minarets.]

Tell Us What You Think