9:03 AM | 17 July 2019
It’s a strange feeling resting heavy on the heart. Hurried anticipation for the near future. The kind that doesn’t let you sit still and makes you want to get up and pace around the room. A few deep breaths every other second does no good. Your feet also begin to hurt. Where are the words to describe this discomfort?
Everyone and everything around you is fine. Your aunts and uncles are sharing happy good mornings on the family WhatsApp group and there is love and warmth all around you. But do you really feel it?
How can emptiness feel heavy? But it does! I promise you that! It’s a puzzle, the heart. The missing piece is just your soul demanding to go home. And this home is not in the dusty streets of Karachi or in the shimmering ones of New York or in the rainy ones of London. This home is in His remembrance. Just remembering Him, thinking about Him, His mercy. More than the problems that keep you awake at night.
This home is in the smile you gift to another human being, it is in the ease you create for another, it’s in the comfort your words and actions gift to another. It’s in the noise of the waterfall, in the humming of the meyna, in the sea-shells washed along the shore. In the gratitude you offer as you wake up from flashbacks of a ghostly – or ghastly – past life. It is also – and I’m sure of this – in the guidance we seek, every morning.
And in love. And in Love.
“Ais ishq di jhangi wich mor bulenda/
Sanu qibla ton Ka’aba sohna yaar disenda/
Saanu ghayal karke phir khabar na laaiyaan/
Tere ishq nachaiyaan kar key thaiyaa / thaiyaa!”
(“A peacock calls in the grove of passion/
It’s Qibla, It’s Kaaba where lives my love/
You asked not once after you stabbed/
Your love has made me dance like mad.”)
– Bulleh Shah