In the beginning, when the world was newly woven from the threads of light and shadow, and the earth was still soft beneath the feet of the creatures who roamed it, there was a garden. Not just any garden, but one whose beauty surpassed the imagination of even the wisest among angels. Its trees reached towards the heavens with arms heavy with fruit, and its streams flowed like rivers of liquid crystal, murmuring with the wisdom of the Divine.

In this garden, known as Eden, there dwelt the first of humankind — Adam, the chosen of the Creator. Formed not from mere earth alone but from the clay of the ground, and imbued with the breath of life itself by the command of Allah, Adam stood apart from all other creatures. His form was crafted from clay, the dust of the earth, yet within him was a special spirit, not a “spark of Divine essence”, but a Divine breath from Allah, distinguishing him as a being capable of knowledge, choice, and responsibility.
In this sacred place, Adam was not alone. Beside him was his companion, Hawwa (Eve), whose creation was both a mystery and a gift. Together they lived in harmony; their days marked not by toil or pain but by an eternal spring of joy and peace. They were the first of their kind, tasked with the stewardship of the earth, and they understood the language of the birds, the whispers of the wind, and the silent speech of the stars.
But there was one command given to Adam, one that stood as a test in the heart of his existence. In the center of the garden stood a tree, magnificent in its beauty yet forbidden. The Creator, in His infinite wisdom, had decreed that neither Adam nor Hawwa should taste of its fruit. The tree was a symbol, a boundary between obedience and desire, between trust in the Divine and the freedom of choice that had been granted to humankind.

In Adam’s story lies the tale of all humankind: the journey from innocence to knowledge, from error to redemption

Now, among the creatures of the heavens, there was one whose pride had long festered, a being who had once stood among the highest ranks of the celestial. Satan or Iblis, as he was called, was a jinn of great power and knowledge, but his heart had grown dark with arrogance. When the Creator commanded the angels and jinn to bow before Adam, Iblis refused, seeing in Adam only the clay from which he was formed, not the divine spirit that animated him. For this defiance, Iblis was cast down, but his enmity toward Adam remained, burning like a flame that could not be quenched.
One day, as Adam and Hawwa moved through the garden, Iblis, cloaked in deceit, approached them. His voice was as smooth as the surface of a still lake, and his words curled like smoke around their hearts. He whispered of the forbidden tree, tempting them with promises of knowledge and power, suggesting that the Creator had hidden something from them, something they deserved to possess.
 The seeds of doubt were planted. Despite the command of their Lord, Adam and Hawwa reached for the fruit of the forbidden tree, their hands trembling, not with fear but with the intoxicating allure of what might lie beyond the boundary. The moment they tasted the fruit, the world around them shifted. The garden, once a place of perfect harmony, became a place of sorrow. The trees seemed to sigh, the streams slowed their course, and Adam and Hawwa felt, for the first time, the weight of regret, as the bond between them and the Creator was momentarily broken.
The Creator, in His boundless mercy, spoke to Adam and Hawwa. They were no longer fit to dwell in the sacred garden, for their choice had altered their state of being. Yet, though they had erred, the Creator did not abandon them. Instead, He sent them down to the earth, where they would toil, where their hands would know the roughness of the soil, and their hearts would feel the sting of longing for the closeness they had once known. But He also gave them a promise, a promise that redemption would come and that their descendants would be guided back to the path of righteousness.
Thus, Adam and Hawwa began their life on earth. The dust from which Adam had been formed now clung to his skin as he worked the land. The earth, once soft beneath his feet, now required his labor. But Adam was not forsaken. For it was here, in the dust and toil, that Adam was given the mantle of prophethood, becoming the first of many to come. The Creator, still near, bestowed upon him knowledge, teaching him the names of all things, so that he might guide his children, and their children, toward the truth.
Adam’s life on earth was not without struggle. He knew loss and hardship, felt the pain of separation from the Divine presence that had once been his constant companion. Yet through it all, he carried the light of his Creator’s guidance within him. He taught his children the way of the One, warning them of the whispers of Iblis and the temptations that would surely follow them through life.
In Adam’s story lies the tale of all humankind: the journey from innocence to knowledge, from error to redemption. His fall from the garden was not an end but a beginning — a beginning of the human story, where the path of life is marked by choices, trials, and the hope of return to the Divine. Adam, the first prophet (AS), bore witness to the mercy of the Creator, who, even in the face of disobedience, offers the chance for salvation.
And so, the Garden of Eden became a distant memory, yet its lessons remain etched in the soul of humanity, a reminder that even in the dust of the earth, the divine breath still lives within us, guiding us back to the Light.