She opened her journal again and wrote, not for the university but for herself:
Upon Mustafa, the mine of mercy, a hundred thousand salutations. Upon the intercessor on the dreadful Day of Judgment, a hundred thousand salutations. mustafa jane rehmat pe lakhon salam english translation
She had asked him then, “Abba Jan, why lakhon? Why not a thousand or a million?” She opened her journal again and wrote, not
She had replied, without thinking: Mustafa jane rehmat pe lakhon salam. Shafi-e-roze jazza pe lakhon salam. the mine of mercy
On Mustafa—the chosen one, the living spring of mercy— a love beyond number, a greeting beyond measure, a salutation beyond language.