The Magic of Dawn

I woke up in a flurry. My alarm clock had failed to go off at 6:30 as I had set it and was now showing the time to be 11:20. How can that be? Did I miss my morning 9:30 workshop? Will I still make it in time if I speed walk to college? A hundred questions all at once as I fumbled out of bed and grabbed the nearest watch. Squinting, it was not 8 o'clock yet. Closing my eyes, I sunk my head back into the pillow and drifted into a mental oblivion. My clock's battery needs changing again but the sun has already risen and I had missed the dawn prayer.

The rest of the morning was not quite the same. I had missed out on the magical beginning to a new day. That time of day when every being is letting out a breath of freshness. A crispness that surrounds the air and a stillness that precedes the daily motions of the sunrise. I missed out on my daily morning closeness to God. My means of speaking to Him and feeling Him acknowledge my thanks, my dreams and my wishes for the day in return. I had missed out on being part of a celebration of all those who join together to witness the magic of creating a new day. There is a unique feeling of peace that envelopes you after you have finished the dawn prayer. No matter what you do afterwards, whether it is a short nap, an early breakfast or reading a book, I would always feel protected and nurtured for the rest of the day.

It was a habit I had coached myself into for a number of years now. Set the alarm and get up for the dawn prayer even if living in a country where the muezzin* was gracious enough to have his voice heard, calling you to prayer:

"...Make haste towards worship,

Make haste towards true success,

Prayer is better than sleep..."

I made it my own responsibility to make sure I got out of bed. It was those words that would be an instant reminder to urge me out of the warmth and cosiness of my bed. Afterwards, I would find myself to be disciplined and at peace for the rest of the day. I would observe how I would face difficulties and daily calamities with grace because I felt nurtured at a spiritual level. I would feel that I had the strength and courage to face the hurdles that life tends to throw at you because I had communicated with The Creator.

Dawn. My most special time of the day when light first disperses the darkness. It brings with it the promise of opportunities and the chances to achieve. How can one not join in a prayer of hope for what is to come.

*Muezzin : a person, usually at a mosque, who calls out to prayer five times a day.

Gratitude

Two things happened to me today.

The first thing was when I woke up this morning and found that we had a power cut. I rolled my eyes in irritation at the prospect of no light. I find it amusing now how that was the first thing that came to mind. No light. No power for my computer. No power? No Internet! I started to panic. My connection to the outside world has been severed. My window to the world. The means I have to talk to my family and friends. No electricity! I cannot even make myself a soothing cup of tea to calm myself down. No central heating! I will freeze in the cold and miserable English winter. I frantically ran downstairs to take a look at the power switches. Could I possibly magically fix the situation by flicking a switch? I looked around the kitchen. No toast. Our hob was electric so no dinner for tonight. Will the power cut last that long? I looked out of the window at the grey sky despite the time of day. It was still morning. No light. I sighed and realised all the things I had suddenly been deprived of. How fragile we are. Someone, somewhere had flicked the wrong switch or drilled into the wrong cable and here I am in the middle of a power cut. It was as simple as that. My thoughts went to the readings I had to do for tomorrow. I would have to walk to college and access the computers there instead. Another sigh. I took one persistent step after the other half an hour later as I made my way along the footpath. I wondered whether our neighbours had a power cut too. It was not until I was walking in town did I realise that the whole town was sharing my blues. Cafes with closed signs due to the power failure. Shops still open for business but trading in the dark. I smiled. It seems it was not only me who was concerned about the light.

Somehow I felt relieved. My malaise was everyone else's malaise too. Notional group therapy in a sense. Knowing that we are all in this together was a huge comfort factor. It did not change anything though. It only changed my attitude. Was that a good or a bad thing I wondered? Or was it just human nature?

The second thing that happened today was that my friend almost lost her laptop. We had been shopping in town and while she was trying something on, she had momentarily put her laptop bag down. At which point did she stop feeling the weight of the bag on her shoulder? How could she have the heart to just put her laptop down and forget about it, even if it was just for a moment. Why did she even bring it with her, such an important tool, to a shopping trip. Shock. Horror at the possibility that the pieces of her life saved and stored on her laptop would be gone forever. I felt the realisation rise within me as I rushed out of the house to search the shops we had been to together. Imagine if that had been me.

Incredibly, I found myself uttering gratitude over and over as I made my way to town, along with silent prayers that we find her laptop. It was not until the lady in one of the shops gracefully disappeared into the back room and came back out with the bag did my friend let out the hugest sigh of relief. I felt grateful too.

It is funny how we always, and I mean always, take things for granted. It really does not matter how close or aware you think you are to God. It does not matter how long and hard you pray or how dire your circumstances are. One can never thank enough.

"...and if you count the Blessings of Allah, never will you be able to count them..."*

I found myself saying thanks but more importantly, feeling it. Thanks for the things I have been blessed with. Thanks for all the bad things that could have happened to me but did not. Thanks for this realisation. Thanks for this moment. Thanks for helping my friend today. Thanks for teaching me a valuable lesson in gratitude. Thanks for making me less aggravated by the ways of the world. Thanks for allowing me to wipe out any unnecessary aggrieve. It is amazing really how a simple thing like forgetting one's laptop in a shopping spree moment or experiencing a power cut can bring you back down to earth.

My newly found resolve is to constantly and expressly be grateful no matter what.

*Surat Ibrahim from the Quran [14:34]

A Simple Gesture

It is not often that you get to fully appreciate the weight of a simple gesture. Light and swift in motion. Rich and intense in substance. You only get to realise its true effect a fleeting moment after it happens. All you are left with in that fleeting moment is the after effect of a sweet but fading aroma that your senses try to hold on to for dear life. A simple gesture.

I came across these words today.

Gristle. It brought back memories of me as a child trying to chew endlessly on badly made dinners hosted by ill-tempered grown ups. Those were the type of people I hated visiting. Their words were ill; dripping with condescending niceties. I would smile in horror and shy away into the deepest corner of my mind. I could see my parents bite and smile too and it made me wonder why they insisted on taking me to these visits. A distant relative that we had to pay tribute to once in a while. Perhaps an obligation which I had to be a part of. As I grew up, I got to associate those visits with gristle. The food they made and the mood they left me with.

Progeny. A word full of meaning. One that evokes notions of pride; my parents' pride for having me in their life. I would ask my parents to refer to my sister and I as their progeny from now on. A renewed sense of achievement tends to arise every time they use that word. A homecoming and a warmth that can only be felt at home.

I think back to the simple gesture though. We all get touched by strangers who just happen to cross our paths or stumble on us in the most unexpected and unusual of circumstances. This reminds me of another perfect word.

Serendipity. The effect that a simple gesture does to you is serendipitious. It takes you away from the gristle that you are forced to munch away on in this journey called life. It leaves you feeling that you are part of a progeny of those have been there and felt the same way you do. Proud to have been given the chance to experience the gentleness and subtlety of a kind and simple gesture.