“Have faith my dear, your beloved will realize
what he is holding between his hands is
but a lost diamond waiting to be mounted on a ring.”
As I comforted my dear friend on a morning cloudy skies sitting on the bench rhyming our tears to the droplets of rain, rhyming our breaths with the besieging winds, rhyming our words with the ripples on the water. It was at this very bench that she began to tell her story:
Not long ago, maybe over 2 years ago, that she met a soul whose heart found comfort in. It was around the times where her very own story evolved into a blockade of tears, where no corner could serve a sense of purpose anymore, where no friend could be found. It was him that she resided in; it was him that gave her shelter.
A friend he became over a short period of time: a locked spirit with all her secrets. Certainly if her parents or anyone found out the inflicting fitnah she is subscribing herself to, it would have ended what grew to be the unlawful love.
At times, without words but merely a stare into the meadow of her eyes and their tales, I could see her pain surfing through her hidden tears as she described their first kiss on this very bench:
At 8:30 PM after he class, she was holding on to herself sitting on this bench, knees bent as she was a ticking bomb waiting for something to pull her trigger and explode. She thought no one could find her, that she was alone when she yelled out “WHYYYYYYYY!”
She turned around and he was there, behind her, silent, merely standing there listening to the chimes of her clock ticking the countdown to her end. He knew where to find her, as if he only had to listen to his inner voice guiding him where to go. He knew what she was going through, with her father’s deterioration colliding with her dreams, with her mother’s daily refutation upon her weaknesses, with her unfair trials leading her astray. He knew all that, but all he could is stand back in silence.
He knew that if he pushed the wrong button, pulled the wrong string, did anything ordinary that she might jump off a cliff. He was confused as to what to do, but he waited until her arms opened wide for his soul, he waited until she demanded to survive, he just waited until the right moment to tell her:
“I love you. I love everything about you.
I love your shyness and excitements,
I love your diseases and cures,
I love your voice and silence,
I love you faults and strength,
I love your wrinkles when you smile,
your eyes when their silent,
your grin when angry,
your soul when its happy….
everything about you is me.
Even when the whole world disappears on you,
I will be standing behind you silently.
You might not see me,
but I’m there waiting when you fall to pick you up,
waiting for you to grow wings so we can fly away.
I will wait for you…”
She looked at him, disappeared into his soft eloquent words, forgot that she lived in this world and all she could see are clouds. She went beyond the skies above and now residing among the stars... and what’s facing her is the bright moon. All the sounds of the world disappeared with her fury, and all that remained are the sounds of his heart beat, every beat matching her heart’s. She found herself delving into his soul, letting go, silent breaths, sipping from the fountain of love. She found her self with tears flowing from the sudden enjoyment of life, her tears mixing with his, and became one struggle for one love... A sudden urge to live longer, the sudden urge to love.
Then reality set in like the colored horizon formed from a beautiful sun settting on a dark night, stumbled by thundery rain. They separated as if a meteorite has come full speed firing from above striking their locked lips. Only the moon shinning back on her, But the millions of stars witnessing this fallible journey.
What has happened? They both at a mere shock, uttered a silent wail underneath it all. A that long lost minute, they thought they had nothing to lose; Now, they have everything to loose, not only themselves, but the love that was dwindled by the silent mark of time.
A wave of fear spread through her body and caused her feet to run; run away from the beautiful nightmare, run away from the ONE, run away from it all.
As if she became blind and heartless, she couldn’t feel nor cry after that night. She knew that she trapped herself within the dark abyss and now left to mend alone: Obliterate the soft memory that squeezes her heart dry. Meanwhile, the only witness to this mess cornered himself at the other end of this world, and shackled his mind to never feel again.
Their night became a lost slumber to the broken record that kept repeating the 2 minute song of Track 20! When the courage overcame her and finally allowed herself to stand up, shamelly, in front of her lord, every word she seemed to utter was a punch to the stomach and a stab to the heart. The bottled tears rhymed with the duas, hands shaking high building the mystery. With all of this, she found herself uttering his name, silently, afraid that the very mention of his existence might reduce the chance of her forgiveness…Silently, she made the following prayer:
“Ya Allah. All along I believed that tribulation conquered my destiny, that there was no light at the end of the tunnel. All this time, I was lost from the righteous road to you, I was far off from reaching to your rope. Oh Lord, I have found a soul that nurtured my heart, even if my breath was overtaken by his might… Alhamdoulillah! Alhamdoulillah that the beautiful moment was defeated by your power. But now I must beg you to forgive me, but allow this soul to inhibit my body. I will not reach for him again, but you must….Please…. make him cross my path once more righteously! If you Will!”
How can he commit such crime of the heart to another heart whose already corrupted, giving her one more thing to think about? This is the moment of choice for him, the moment where the decision he will make, may make or break the already made history. Standing at the edge of the universe contemplating his existence and the soul he let go like a dove from his hand, he knew that at any moment a gush of wind my send him flying off the universe into the unknown.
What is standing before him are two, what promises nothing is staring back at him below over the edge, what promises everything are the skies above. Although a thundery cloud is what’s seen by the naked eye, but beyond is a masked heaven waiting to be inhibited by his soul and mate. It was the moment of truth:
He already professed his love for her, but could he mend the past and reckon a plan to attain her? He knew that she can no longer hold her self but merely swimming the seven seas floating on her back. How can he show her that his hands are safe to hold?
He faced the one above, shamely, acknowledging his failure of such trial, and allowing this moment of khushu3 turn into a dua that no heart has ever felt before:
“It is I, your slave, a mere dust floating midst your destined will. It is I: the sinful. I have professed my love for you, my lord, merely by words and heart, but my actions speak otherwise. I let my hands tie in her knot, I let my mouth speak her words, I let myself become her: Please don’t blame me.
Her love, I cannot control this flame that’s burning every ounce of my faith. Without her hand holding mine, forever in a holly land, I will be a mere particle illuminating nothing but darkness at night, and merely reflecting the light of others hearts by day. I, your slave, am not complete until she inhibits my body. It is You, my lord, that wills it all, so please make it easier on me to be patient until our paths meet again. It is You, the best of planners, I beg you to give me courage for whatever you lead me. It is I, the stranger, and Her heart I put on your hands.”
Days passed by, every sight of her emerged his stomach to delve backwards, the moment he hears her voice from afar his heart surfaces and his heart beats is heard. All while, he reasons she had stitched his mark of love, and sealed the scars he left wide open, erased the footsteps they left behind, and his name disappeared from her mind.
If only they knew that their two roads are one way streets, and the street lights are guided by Allah. It is patience that was inscribed to them, until the time is due to open their ways to cross. He wrote her a small note, inscribed in it were few words of wisdom [Be patient, Allah will make our way, I’ll be coming soon]…Enough to retrieve her lost hopes. If she truly believed in miracles of Allah, he thought, she would return the letter likewise. Indeed she had.
A year had passed by. 12 notes pocketed in a notebook under their beds, one for each month made to each other. Enough to stimulate his strength to go on with life, and induce a heart with the right amount of fuel to energize his will to Learn, to form wings to fly away with her on his back. She straightened her knees and stood tall firm on the ground, equipped herself with the right tools to form a true relationship with her lord, enough to withstand the tests of time. Until the very day he asked for her hand: Not easy to retrieve, so not surprising. Nothing comes easy to the believers; it is merely a way to form an appreciation to the entity you are striving for. His voice and energy depleted until he won her parents hearts…
holding her hand, they took their first steps of this life together circling the Ka’aba: renewed their intentions, pure, delicate…Forever they will be!
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