It was the first 10th night of the blessed month of Ramadan and after completing my daily work, I start singing my own verses-Wound in the heart is not only the issue of heart but a serious issue of a human being. Human in being isn’t only the trait of being but a beautiful trait of a human being. Darkness in the bulb isn’t only the darkness of bulb but a dark side of human beings. Light in the bulb isn’t only the light of bulb but a leading light of human beings. In the meantime, my better half, told me light in the bulb is still on and we have to wake-up for the pre-dawn meal (Sahur/Sehri), so please turn off the lights and get some sleep.
The cover of life was covered with the clouds of despair, frightening lights lit up the night, dogs were barking in the playfield, bird alarm calls were as quick as a flash, trees were toppling, and the houses were shaking. In the meantime, the drops of rain from the cover of life were calling me in my dreams to know your drop in the drops of rain, tag your drop in the drops of rain, hold your drop in the drops of rain, wash your drop in the drops of rain and save your drop in the drops of rain.
I started to move towards the window, unlocked the window to capture the sight of raindrops, what I saw, one drop gets transformed into the shape of a beautiful bird and was coming towards me by beating his wings and dancing in the midst of raindrops, singing a song-Know your drop in the drops of rain, dethrone other drops in the drops of rain, fight other drops in the drops of rain and beat other drops in the drops of rain. My field of vision was focused on the beautiful bird and abruptly one raindrop strikes the right-wing of the bird with great intensity and the bird got imbalanced for some time but later on managed to cope the harshness of the raindrop and continued to beat his wings with a different song-Beat your wings of intelligence to nourish your soul, meet your meets of intelligence to nourish your soul, defeat your wings of appetite to guard your soul, beat your beats of appetite to guard your soul.
At one moment, I was very annoying to see the suffering of a beautiful bird in the midst of raindrops, I started shouting be careful! be careful! my heart was in my mouth and a sudden ah! came out of my heart, all is well! all is well! I was eagerly waiting for the bird and then another raindrop strikes the left-wing of the bird and this time with much greater intensity and the bird was trying hard to restore regular arrangement, despite repeated attempts, he couldn’t restore his normal format and fall directly onto the tree, the bruised and abraded bird resting on the branch of a tree started to sing once again and this time with a different song- In search of breath, dust wanna fly, to meet his breath, to breathe his breath, to tell his breath, dust wanna fly.
After some time, the bruised bird expand his wings and tried his best to beat them fly and ultimately found his way in the sky and this time beating his wings with bruises and scares and with a different song- The cover of life is singing a song of an electrical storm, reflecting the deeds of our seeds with a clap of thunder in the form of bolts to warn the black-heart to flee from the God’s wrath to come.
The bird was approaching towards me, tears rolled down my cheeks and the drops of rain wash it down. Now, the drops of rain turned stubborn, stumbling block the flight of a bird, and the hapless bird with bruises and scares changed his song- First and last breath of mine, birth, and death of mine, oh! the life of mine, prepare your first for the last of mine, home and grave of mine, oh! the life of mine, prepare your home for the grave of mine, life, and test of mine, oh! the life of mine, prepare your life for the test of mine.
I was shell-shocked to see the miseries of a beautiful bird and tears continued rolling down my cheeks and finally the hapless bird with bruises and scares caged in the storm of nature sing his last song-Finally dust marries with dust, but our dust is beating for lust to meet the trust, finally, dust marries with dust, but our dust is walking on eggs to meet the thugs, finally, dust marries with dust, but our dust is breaking the bonds to meet the wounds, finally dust marries with dust. I was repeating the same lyrics in my dream and a call from our local Masjid for a pre-dawn meal (sahur/sehri) was called out and I wake up with tears rolling down my cheeks.
May Almighty Allah SWT forgive our sins and have mercy on us.
The writer is an Assistant Professor, Govt. Degree College Sumbal Sonawari, Jammu, and Kashmir. He can be reached at drarshediqbal@gmail.com. The views expressed here are his own.
