Silent serenity reigned.
I carefully took every step of the stairway,enjoying myself.
Slowly inhaled the sweet vanilla scent of bokhoor that saturated the air...slow short inspirations, bothering to show tribute to my asthma.
Hung on the walls along both sides of the staircase were some nice quotations,Hadiths,and reminders...I always enjoy reading them,every time I get in there.
I took my Converse off,held the red pair very eloquently in my left hand,and leaned against the door pushing the golden doorknob swiftly with my right hand.
The golden doorknob never failed to grab my attention...so neatly polished and intricately designed,it was seated there,sweetly inviting me to hold it,turn in down and walk in.
Once inside,you're met by this special aroma that inhabits Masjids.It's the sweet odor of carpets,neatly stacked books of Quran,and well,a house of God.
My fav red cushion sat very lonely at the far end of the Masjid,slowly i walked towards it,passing by the bamboo separators that neatly segregated the Masjid into two.One for males,and the other for us.
I sat down and sighed...
I talked to God bout life.How funny it seems at times.How frustrating at others.
I kinda whispered my thoughts to Him...My childish fears,and my grown-up dreams.
I told Him bout my good friends too.I marveled on how picky I've become,choosing people more closely for my company...I even told Him about my first ophthalmology patient...how bedraggled his clothes were...and how his eyes held alot of pain and misery...and how my inexperienced eyes glimpsed a glitter of hope unmoved by all that which he's been through.
I walked to the closest stack of Qurans and took one.I then retired to my cozy cushion.I like to randomly open the holy book,and then seek a serious advise from the first verse my eyes fall on.My Quran tutor taught me that back in Saudi.She would gather us around her,and randomly pick up verses for each of us.It made me feel special and somehow manage to relate to each and every little verse that 'spoke for me'.
The Azan was being recited.I leaned back and closed my eyes.Azan intrigues me a lot.A call for prayer by the All-Mighty.What's more honoring than that?
Better yet,what's more pressing in life than answering the call of your Creator?
After prayer I walked back home...with a little undefined thing residing in my wee heart.I felt serene.I felt connected.
My fav red cushion sat very lonely at the far end of the Masjid,slowly i walked towards it,passing by the bamboo separators that neatly segregated the Masjid into two.One for males,and the other for us.
I sat down and sighed...
I talked to God bout life.How funny it seems at times.How frustrating at others.
I kinda whispered my thoughts to Him...My childish fears,and my grown-up dreams.
I told Him bout my good friends too.I marveled on how picky I've become,choosing people more closely for my company...I even told Him about my first ophthalmology patient...how bedraggled his clothes were...and how his eyes held alot of pain and misery...and how my inexperienced eyes glimpsed a glitter of hope unmoved by all that which he's been through.
I walked to the closest stack of Qurans and took one.I then retired to my cozy cushion.I like to randomly open the holy book,and then seek a serious advise from the first verse my eyes fall on.My Quran tutor taught me that back in Saudi.She would gather us around her,and randomly pick up verses for each of us.It made me feel special and somehow manage to relate to each and every little verse that 'spoke for me'.
The Azan was being recited.I leaned back and closed my eyes.Azan intrigues me a lot.A call for prayer by the All-Mighty.What's more honoring than that?
Better yet,what's more pressing in life than answering the call of your Creator?
After prayer I walked back home...with a little undefined thing residing in my wee heart.I felt serene.I felt connected.
