It's not often that I have a day off on Friday. As this Friday was different, I thought I'll stay behind, wait until everyone else has left the prayer hall before I go home myself.

The man who was there with his twin sons was one of the first to go (in the second wave of people to leave). The first wave is mostly made of men wearing suits who are probably on their lunch hour. I'm normally among them, but not today. Today I have a day off and I'm going to be the last one to leave the hall.

Everyone has a massive smile on their face. Hugging and saying "Eid Mubarak" to everyone else. I sit on the side, by the coat stand in the corner.

Everyone is getting up and going. Going to see friends and family.

Everyone that is, except the man in the 7th row. It's not the first time I've noticed him during this Jumma.

The first time I noticed him was at the end of the Fard namaz. I don't know if it's the emotion that the Imam was reading with or what, but this man from the 7th row had tears in his eyes. He was doing a semi-decent job of hiding them, but I wasn't as busy as everyone else so I still saw.

Did he want to be the last one to leave too? Why isn't he going? I wonder who will win - him or me? Who WILL be the last man standing (or sitting - or whatever)

Everyone had gone now, only me and him left. OK, this can't go on for ever. We'll be here until Isha at this rate, I'll have to give in.

As I got up and headed towards the door, I had a thought "maybe he has no one to go home to." So, rather than walk out the door, I went and sat with this man. Said Salam and Eid Mubarak as I sat with him. We sat there in silence after that for about 10 minutes. Both thinking away. Him wiping a teary eye from time to time, me pretending I didn't notice that he's crying.

I invited him to my house and he accepted the invitation. We drove to my house, again in silence. Me thinking my thoughts, him thinking his.

We got to my house, sat in front of the telly as we had a cup of coffee. Once again in perfect silence for over half an hour.

He wasn't jumping for joy as he walked out my front door another half an hour later, but his tears had stopped and he had a hint of a smile.