I was sitting by the balcony. The morning dew blew gently over my face. The chill reached inside my cheek bone. Pulling my jacket closer to body, I raised my head up. The blue sky was plain without any single cloud. The sun was hiding as it was still 6 o’clock.
I wondered if today the day will be hotter or just the same as the previous day. Ever since winter empowering the climate, rain fall sometimes making weather colder. And the cold breeze enough to make your knee shaking.
Leaning my body against the wall on my right, I bent forward a little. Weaving my fingers to each other in order keeping some heat, I looked down to the street below. Two men were walking in medium speed. One of them wearing a light brown garment whiles another wearing a white one with black jacket outside. I thought both of them were back from performing Subh prayer at the nearby mosque as they were wearing taqiyah on their head. Looking at their skin colours which were quite rosy in morning coldness with dark blonde hair and beard, they didn’t seem like Egyptian. They might be Russians as nowadays the Islamic conscious among the Russians were flourishing. Many Russians started to fly over Egypt and pursuing their studies in Al-Azhar, the world oldest university. At that moment, I praised Allah for I was able to know and practicing Islam freely in my country. I was lucky enough, unlike them have to live in such capitalist country under the Soviet Union government.
Gazing towards the building in front of mine, I saw a girl came out from the main doors. Then, a woman, probably her mother was following her behind with warm smile. They both headed to a silver Toyota Corolla not far away from the building. The girl was wearing school uniforms walked gracefully to the car. She then was leaning against the door while waiting for her mother to unlock the car. Once the door was unlocked, she jumped into the back passenger sits. The mother just watched her daughter and shaking her head while she putted her handbag and jacket at the backseats. She then opened the driver’s seat door and started the engine. She might be going to send her daughter to school and go to work after that. Seeing them like seeing myself in past 20 years. Deja vu. In a glimpse, I thought of my mother. The last time I heard her was last week. I was considering calling her when it was 8 p.m at Malaysia after this. It was still early and she probably still at her workplace now.
My eyes kept staring to the car, following it till the end of road. A hustle at the end of road captured my attention. The Toyota Corolla had to slow down to pass the hustle. I sharpen my vision to reach out what’s actually happened there. There was white van, and few cars. People were crying and shouting. My heart pounded when I saw what written on the van. It was a van that carried the dead body. Innalillahi wainna ilaihi raji’un. I swallowed my saliva. I heard a woman was shouting, calling for her mother. She had lost her mother. Once again I thought of my mother. Out of sudden, I lost the peace inside me. I must call her.
I turned back to go inside my room and leaving the balcony door opened. I searched for my laptop and left it on. While waiting for it to load all the process I reached my hand phone. I typed a message to my mother telling her that I want to call her now. In the meanwhile, I prayed she was not busy.
I heard the main door opened by somebody. It might be my housemates. They all went to jog this morning. But I was not because my ankle sprained. Yesterday, I fall down on the street because I rushed up to catch the bus to university. Luckily when I went to the doctor to do the check up, he said it was just a simple sprained. There was nothing to be worried of. But I still worried of it because I didn’t like staying home doing nothing. And truly what the beloved prophet said, the two blessings that human tend to forget are well being and leisure time. It was so right according to my condition now.
“Hey, how do you feel today?” One of my housemates walked into my room.
“Alhamdulillah. I’m doing fine except for my ankle.” I smiled to her.
“What were you doing with your headscarf on while we’re not home?”
“Many things…” My smile widened. I had not taken off my headscarf yet because I was thinking of my mother just now.
Yes… too many things I learnt by looking down to the street below. I never had much time to tadabbur Allah’s creations before. And I wondered… this might be among the reason Allah had made me fall on the street. He did this in order not to let me go astray. So I could feel that He’s so close to me.
“I want to call my mother…” I said to my housemate.
“Oh… okay. I’m going to make breakfast.” She walked out from my room.
I signed in my yahoo messenger and looked for my mother ID. Alhamdulillah… she was there. I called her messenger. The tone was ringing. In the interim I said alhamdullillah. Alhamdulillah for He taught me from the street that I always ignore even though I walk on it every day to school. At that moment, I knew it wasn’t merely a street. It was a creation in which He taught me by looking to it. He taught me His love, He taught me to be grateful of my life, He taught me to appreciate my mother, and He taught me about His power to take the soul He gave us anytime. Alhamdulillah, He let me knew that He loved me till this 8 am in the morning.
Posted on April 12, 2010 by bradsid
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