Hot and scorching.
That’s the sort of mood the weather’s having. When it’s dry and the sun’s shining, she could say it is now the hottest May in living memory. Yes, it is the heatwave season. Subhanallah!
But it does rain sometime. She would wake in the middle of the night to the sound of the raindrops cracking and spattering at the window, drumming and pounding on the roof. In fact the weather made her feel slightly better. It seemed like Fate’s way of evening things up.
She was probably the only one who didn’t mind the torrential rain.
She couldn’t believe that she’s not eating much lately. Because she’d always had a fair appetite. Whenever she met a person who would say “Oh silly old me, I simply forget to eat“, she would stare at them with ill concealed bafflement, feeling unglamorous and clumsy. She would think, how could anyone forget to eat.
Because when the world ends and we’re all in Heaven (Allahumma Amin), and time ceases to exist and we are pure of spirit and have eternal life, which we will spend contemplating Allah, she would probably still need her Oreo McFlurry.
And now, she was not hungry. In fact she was appalled at the idea of having to eat. If only she had felt like this when she was seventeen. It seems like books and the rain are the antidotes that wash troubles away, even for a while.
Rain are like tears. Tears created by Allah SWT and with each drop of a tear, blessed with rahmat, faith of new hopes and beginnings. There’s a familiar sense of comfort in its loneliness. Putting the world to a halt, as though to stop us to ponder.
No comments:
Post a Comment